


Ethereal Whispers

by breakfastatmilliways



Series: Ghost Sipserer [1]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: 2spoopy, Assisted Suicide, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, ghoooosts, zombie goasts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-03-30 03:09:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3920707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakfastatmilliways/pseuds/breakfastatmilliways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Also known as The One Where Sips is Basically Jennifer Love Hewitt, or Ghost Sipserer. </p><p>From OTP prompts;</p><p>Person A has a near death experience, the result of which is that they can now see ghosts, including (but not limited to) person B. Person A has to help the ghosts complete their unfinished business so that they can cross over. Things get complicated when Person A falls for Person B.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Most people would have been terribly confused and panicked to find themselves waking up in a hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines, with no memory of how they had gotten there. Sips was not most people, and his primary emotion upon opening his eyes to a blank white hospital ceiling was annoyance. His head hurt, his throat was dry as fuck, and he just felt all around like a sack of drowsy, groggy crap. He had clearly been out for a while, and what the hell did that mean for Sipsco? He’d had meetings, god dammit. He couldn’t entirely remember what these meetings were meant to be about, but he knew he’d had them, and that they were probably important.

Unfortunately, the complaints Sips tried to lodge at this point fell upon deaf ears. The nurses and doctors that soon rushed into the room were too busy patting themselves on the back for a so called ‘miracle’ to listen to his concerns about work. Something about a car accident, severe blunt force trauma, and how he hadn’t been expected to regain consciousness. The only part that he actually acknowledged was the fact that he had apparently been out for two god damn weeks. Assuming that Sipsco hadn’t already fallen without him, he would have such an ungodly amount of catch up work to do. He didn’t have time for any of this bullshit about the probability of permanent brain damage or the need for physical therapy. None of these stupid god damn doctors had an ounce of understanding about the importance of running a multi-billion dollar company, and it didn’t look like he’d be getting out any time soon.

~~~~

The next few days consisted of a slew of tests, both medical and cognitive. The phrase ‘medical miracle’ was thrown around quite a bit, and Sips was quickly beginning to realize just how incredibly unlikely it was for him to be alive right now, let alone showing no signs of any problems with his mental faculties. That didn’t mean he was happy, though. He was lucky to be alive, sure, but he had still missed far too much at work while he was out. Most importantly a meeting with Strife Solutions about the possibility of a takeover. His assistant came in to visit him the day after he woke up, and while she reassured him that all of those meetings had been postponed, the asshole CEO of Strife Solutions had apparently been incredibly pissed about it, and had called several times a day insisting that waiting for a vegetable to miraculously recover was a terrible business plan.

Sips had to admit that he agreed with that. With very few exceptions, his company had reacted to his absence like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. Apart from his reasonably competent assistant, only his legal advisor had done anything of any use. Sips never had seen Nilesy as someone with a backbone, but he learned now that he had spent the weeks fighting with the hospital to keep him on life support (apparently a supposed lost cause like him was considered little more than a boon of organs) while trying to find and get in touch with Sips’ nonexistent family. As soon as the hospital actually allowed him in, he was already making a stink about just how important it was that Sips get his affairs in order on the chance that something like this happened again. After so much talk about miracles and being lucky to be alive, it was refreshing to hear from someone who actually seemed to care more about the future of the company than the CEO’s health. Sips made a mental note to give the weedy looking Scottish kid a raise at some point in the near future.

~~~~

Sips was absolutely fucking ecstatic when he was finally released from the hospital, even if he was under orders to stay at home for at least a week, and to avoid too much strenuous activity. He was fully capable of working from home, something that the doctors hadn’t allowed at the hospital, and he honestly couldn’t wait to get started. As such, it was a bit of an unpleasant surprise when he opened the door to his penthouse apartment and found his couch occupied by a complete stranger.

“...Okay, listen buddy, I don’t care who you are, but I have a lot on my god damn plate and I don’t have time for this. Get out of my house right now and I won’t bother calling the cops. Capiche?”

The man on his couch did not have the response he was expecting. Rather than jumping up and running, or even pulling a knife or something, he just quirked a brow, looking around in apparent confusion, before turning back to look at Sips.

“...Are you talking to me?” He sounded just as incredulous as he looked, and for a moment, Sips found himself wondering if his head injury was worse than he’d previously thought. This was his apartment, right? A glance about the room told him that yes, it absolutely fucking was, and he took a few steps toward the couch, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to look like he wasn’t absolutely weirded the hell out by this exchange already.

“Who the fuck else would I be talking to?! I’m plainly talking to the flamboyantly bearded fucker who’s made himself at home on my couch, and I’m pretty fucking sure that’s you! Why are you still here?!”

As if things weren’t already strange enough, rather than doing as he’d been told and leaving, the man just sat bolt upright, that stupid bearded face splitting into one of the biggest grins that Sips had ever seen.

“Holy shit, you are talking to me! This is incredible. You can actually see me! How the hell can you see me?” For a moment, Sips just stared at him blankly.

“Okay, I see what’s happened here. Look, I went to college. We’ve all dropped acid once or twice or a dozen times, I know how weird things can get. But this isn’t your house beardy guy, alright? This isn’t your house and you’re not invisible, so just get your drugged up butt off my sofa and am-scray. I have three weeks of work to catch up on, and if I don’t get that shit done we’re never gonna meet our dirt quotas for the quarter, because my employees are a bunch of worthless fucks and can’t get shit done without me.” He uncrossed his arms in order to motion vaguely at the door behind him before continuing, “Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

Beard-o made absolutely no motions to leave, still just grinning up at him like an idiot, and Sips could feel the frustration building up inside of him. Why him? He just wanted to get some friggin work done. Was that so much to ask for? He didn’t need some weird flannel clad hipster thinking he was his new roommate or some shit.

“Okay beardy guy, I’m fucking serious. I don’t want to kill your buzz, and I really don’t want to have to take the time to press charges, but if you’re not out of here at the count of ten, I’m actually going to call the cops. Do you actually understand that?”

This did absolutely nothing to kill beard guy’s buzz. His grin was still ear to ear, and he actually hopped up to his feet, although not, as Sips hoped, to leave. Instead he just closed the distance between them, now actually giggling like some giddy fucking school girl as he stared down at Sips.

“I’m terribly sorry.” His apology really lost a lot of its sincerity when paired with a shit eating grin, and Sips felt his own mouth forming into a scowl. “I can’t leave. I wouldn’t call the cops either. They won’t be able to see me. I still can’t bloody believe that you can, but you’re just an exception to the rule, I’d say. Which is brilliant by the way. You’d be amazed how fucking boring it gets, not being able to talk to anyone for a few decades. How the hell can you see and hear me, anyway? You certainly couldn’t before. Oh, I should introduce myself, shouldn’t I? I’ve forgotten so many social niceties. I’m Sjin. You’re… Sips, right? You don’t have people over often, so I dunno if that’s actually what people call you, but it’s what your mail says. And your bills. Um… sorry about that as well. Bit of an invasion of privacy, but I get bored, you know? I can only watch so much TV before raising your electricity bill too much, and I’d feel bad making you pay extra when I can’t even bring in rent. I suppose you’re wealthy enough that you wouldn’t really notice or care, but still… bit rude a thing to do to anyone, wouldn’t you say?”

The scowl on Sips’ face had faded about a quarter of the way into this little rant as he stared up at this gangly nutjob with a look of pure confusion instead. Beardy guy- Sjin, he’d said- Sjin was speaking at a breakneck pace, and while what he was saying was easy enough to hear, Sips couldn’t even begin to actually comprehend it. He was about ready to make good on his threat to call the cops, even though he hadn’t actually counted to ten as threatened. This guy was clearly absolutely, completely insane, and Sips wanted none of it. As he reached into his pocket for his phone, though, Sjin reached out a hand as if to rest it on his chest. Only it didn’t stop there. Sips looked down to see Sjin’s hand literally in his chest, up to his wrist, before looking up to see that the shit eating grin was finally gone, replaced with a disappointed looking frown as Sjin pulled his hand back again.

“Still incorporeal, wouldn’t you know? Suppose being able to actually touch someone would have been too much to expect.”

Sips looked back down at his chest, let out a heavy sigh, and moved to flop down onto the couch.

“So. Ghost?” He questioned in an even tone. He was just so done, he couldn’t even bring himself to be scared.

“Oh. I didn’t say, did I? Sorry, yeah. Ghost. Dead as a doornail, right here. Shuffled free of the mortal coil back in ‘73.” Sjin replied with a bit of a shrug, before dropping down onto the couch beside him. Now that Sips looked, he was really more floating just above the surface than actually sitting on it.

“And you died in this apartment, I assume.”

“Yep. In the kitchen, to be more precise.”

“Would have been nice of the realtors to tell me.”

“You’d have asked for a discount if you knew, yeah?”

“...Good point.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t murdered or anything.”

Sips turned to look at the apparition beside him, trying to decide if it was crossing any particular lines to ask someone how they died. He didn’t have to as Sjin just gave a chuckle and tapped the side of his head.

“Aneurism, apparently. Making a sandwich one second, next thing I know I’m staring at my own body. It’s a bit of a surreal feeling.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

There was an awkward silence for a moment before Sjin broke it once again.

“...You mind if I put on the new Big Brother?”

“...Fuck it, go right ahead.”

The TV flickered on almost instantly, even though Sjin hadn’t moved or even so much as looked at the remote control. Sips was mildly impressed, until he had a bit of an uncomfortable thought.

“You’re not the reason my bathroom light flickers sometimes when I’m in the shower, are you?”

The silence Sips got in response was incredibly telling, and he decided at that moment that he really didn’t want to know.

“You know what? Nevermind.” Shaking his head slightly, he settled back on the couch to watch the show as well.

There was no way in hell he was getting any work done tonight.


	2. Chapter Two

Once you got past the fact that he was a ghost, Sjin actually wasn’t a bad roommate. It had been weird at first, suddenly finding himself sharing the apartment after seemingly living in it alone for the past few years, but Sips was adjusting very quickly. It helped that he and his new ghost buddy were astonishingly compatible in terms of personality and sense of humor. He’d first realized this during his second day at home, when he had been reading some reports his assistant had emailed him over his morning toast.

“Are you gonna be working all day?” Sjin’s voice piped up suddenly, and Sips nearly jumped out of his skin. The one really annoying thing about Sjin was that he didn’t really need to walk from place to place, and could materialise anywhere within the apartment almost instantly. That part was going to take a great deal more getting used to.

“Jeese, I know you can teleport or whatever, which is awesome and all, but do you have to do it all the time?” Sips questioned after he had successfully swallowed the gulp of juice that he had just barely managed to keep himself from spitting out.

“Sorry.” Sjin responded with a bit of a sheepish grin from where he was seated on the chair opposite him at the kitchen table. Truth be told, Sips would have thought he’d find it weird to be in the room where he had died, but he supposed that stuff must kinda stop bothering a person after a few decades. Sjin didn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest. “I know you’ve got a lot on, but I figure you need to take a break sometime, and Ghost is supposed to be on tonight.” He let out a chuckle, as if he’d just amused even himself with the joke that came along with this suggestion.

“Oh, yeah. The one with Tom Hanks, right?” Sips replied in a deadpan tone as he took another drink of his juice. To his utter surprise, rather than the vaguely confused response that jokes like that usually got him, Sjin didn’t miss a beat.

“Yeah! I love the bit when he and the kid face off against the Grim Reaper himself. You’d think it’d be cheesy and heavy handed, but it works somehow, you know?” While Sjin’s delivery wasn’t quite as deadpan as his own had been, he sounded every bit as positive that this was, in fact, part of the film’s plot as Sips had sounded about the lead actor.

“And Richard Attenborough as the necromancer that summoned death in the first place? That was a fucking Academy snub if I ever saw one. I mean yeah, the robots might have been a bit much, he didn’t really need an army on top of everything else, but come on.”

“When the one robot sacrifices himself because he’s come to understand humanity and realizes that the apocalypse isn’t right? Oh, I cried.”

“That’s because you’re a sissy man babby. Who cried at that? It wasn’t even close to being as sad as the end of Cool Runnings.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that much. Romantic moments like that always get to me more than robots blowing up anyway. To think that guy would give up his dream of running a hair salon so he could move to the desert and stay with her…”

Before Sips could respond, he was pulled very suddenly out of the conversation by his phone going off. A glance told him that it was his assistant, and he grumbled slightly to himself about her crappy timing before picking it up.

“Yeah, Zoey, what do you want? It’d better be important, I’m supposed to be resting.”

“Hello, Sips!” Came her ever cheery voice in reply. She obviously wasn’t even slightly bothered by the less than pleasant greeting she had received. “I’ve got a few papers that really need signing, I thought I’d pop over in a few minutes, yeah? Alright my dear, I’ll see you soon!”

As usual, he didn’t even get a word in before she’d hung up the phone with an audible click. Zoey had worked for him for several years now, and while her sunny disposition sometimes got a tiny bit grating, she knew exactly how best to handle him, and he even found her quirks to be rather endearing.

~~~

Zoey made good on her word, showing up at Sips’ door within only a couple short minutes. What Sips had not been expecting, however, was that she would show up with company.

“Who’s this bozo?” He questioned the moment he opened the door, gesturing at the tall, somewhat dark skinned gentleman behind her. He was hard to miss, with the dramatic way he’d wrapped a scarf around the lower half of his face, and the (rather stupid looking, Sips thought) blonde streak in his otherwise dark brown hair. His eyes widened slightly at being addressed, and Zoey turned to look behind her before turning back to Sips with a bit of a frown.

“Um… who are you talking about?” She looked and sounded terribly concerned. Sips couldn’t say he blamed her. He still wasn’t entirely sure that Sjin wasn’t a figment of his imagination, and now, he suddenly realized, he was seeing another ghost.

“Nothing. Nevermind. I thought I saw someone but I guess not. Doctor said some of my ocular nerves might be a little fucked for a while. Guess he was right.” He gave a laugh that was just a little bit forced and stepped aside to let Zoey in. Her tall, rather grim looking shadow followed suit. Sips did his best to ignore him as he exchanged some pleasantries with Zoey, talking about what was going on at the office, and signed the contracts that had needed signing. It was a bit difficult to do so when every time he glanced his way, the new ghost was staring at him with frightening intensity. It was beginning to make him incredibly uncomfortable, and he was only going to be able to pretend to ignore it for so long. If only something, anything, would get this asshole out of his hair long enough for him to-

“Heeeyyy, buddy.” Sjin’s voice was a fucking godsend as Sips’ incorporeal roommate suddenly appeared between him and this unwanted houseguest, grinning pleasantly at the newcomer. “What do you say you and I have a chat in the other room, shall we? Leave these two to their business. I’ll put a kettle on. I know we can’t drink it, but I think you’ll find if you steep the leaves long enough, you can almost smell it.” Scarf guy, thankfully, allowed himself to be shepherded out of the room, and Sips breathed a sigh of relief. Zoey looked up from the paper she was giving her witness’ signature on with a frown.

“Everything alright?” She questioned, still obviously concerned for her employer, despite his reassurances that his health was as good as it could possibly be under the circumstances.

“Just fantastic.” Sips responded, and honestly? It was true. Despite the fact that he still wasn’t entirely sure he was sane, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been happier. As far as unexpected roommates went, he could definitely have done worse.

~~~

About a half an hour later, Sips found himself once again seated on his couch, in between Sjin and this new ghost, who had now learned was named Rythian. The moment Zoey had left, he’d entered to find the two of them deep in discussion in his kitchen, and at his request, the party had been moved to the sitting room. The sheer madness of the fact that he was currently seated between two ghosts wasn’t lost on him at all, and he took a drink of the tea that Sjin had made, trying to keep calm about how fucking insane his life had gone since he woke up.

“So let me get this straight… You’re haunting a person?” Sjin was asking, sounding a bit disbelieving. He couldn’t seem to comprehend the fact that Rythian wasn’t tied down to a single place as he felt that he was.

“I am not haunting her. I am watching over her.” Rythian’s reply sounded mildly offended, and Sips could kind of see why, although he had to agree with Sjin on this one. Haunting seemed like the right term to him.

“How do you even know her? Zoey’s worked for me for years, and I don’t think she ever mentioned anyone named Rythian.” Sips piped up, only to be met with a rather intense glare in response. He raised his hands up defensively. “What? I’m just saying. You’d think she might have mentioned if a friend of hers had died recently.”

“It was just before she started working for you. She does not like to talk about it. As you might have noticed, she prefers to look at things optimistically. She… cannot stay optimistic when she speaks about me.” It was obvious from his tone that there was a lot he was leaving unsaid, and Sips studied him for some time with a frown, before a thought suddenly came to him.

“Why do you wear that scarf like that anyway?” He questioned, already somewhat concerned about what the answer would be. Rythian sighed and turned to stare at the wall for several long moments before he reached up to tug at the scarf, loosening it so that it fell to around his shoulders.

Sjin seemed so normal, it was easy enough to forget that he was actually dead. Not so much with Rythian. The lower half of his face was an absolute wreck, with a hole where his upper lip should have been that carried on straight through the back of his neck. Sips felt more than a little bit queasy when he spoke again, as his lower jaw didn’t seem to be properly hinged anymore, and it honestly looked like it might just fall off.

“It’s more for my benefit than anyone else, obviously. I don’t particularly like to look at it, myself.” He tightened the scarf back up in its previous position as he spoke, and Sips released the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.

“Okay, yeah. No offense, but I’d hide that shit too, even if no one else could see me.” He mumbled with a bit of a chuckle. Beside him, Sjin let out a laugh as well, although Rythian didn’t look even remotely amused. “Sorry. Uh.. how’d it happen, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Rythian rolled his eyes. Sips had a feeling that the poor guy would rather be talking to just about anyone but the two of them right now. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t have a whole lot of options.

“It was just about three years ago now. It’s not a very pleasant story.” His voice took on a warning tone, and he gave Sips a look that seemed to say he was just daring him to pass on listening.

“We’re all ears.” Sjin piped up from his place next to Sips, giving their new acquaintance a rather dazzling grin. It seemed in kind of poor taste to Sips, given the state of Rythian’s jaw, but he supposed if he had as infuriatingly attractive a smile as Sjin did, he’d flaunt that shit too. Rythian glared past Sips at him, but then gave a long suffering sigh and began to tell his story.  

~~~

_It was late, and the night was a particularly balmy one in the middle of August. Zoey had been teasing Rythian for the last five odd minutes about his insistence on wearing a scarf in the middle of the summer when he finally decided that he’d had quite enough of it. He decided to shut her up the best way he knew how, by rounding on her and pushing her gently against the wall of the building they had been walking past. He silenced her surprised laughter by pressing a kiss against her lips, and by the time he pulled away, she was beaming up at him, her issues with his fashion sense seemingly forgotten, at least for the time being. Or so he’d thought at least._

_“Rythian, you can’t just kiss me every time you want me to shut up, you know.” She murmured in a playful tone, even as she leaned up to give him another quick peck before pulling back. “Not that I’m complaining about it. We should really be getting home though, yeah?”_

_Before Rythian could respond, he felt something cold and metal press against the back of neck, and he went rigid, not moving at all from his current position pressed against Zoey. He had a dreadful feeling that he knew exactly what this object was, and he didn’t want her exposed to whoever was holding it._

_“Easy there mate. Empty your pockets and no one here needs to get hurt.” Came a gruff voice from behind him, as the barrel of what he was now fairly certain was a gun was pressed harder into his skin. “Just turn around, nice and slow, like.”_

_Not wanting to piss off some madman with a gun, Rythian did as he was told and slowly turned to face him, although he made a point to stay between the man and Zoey. He didn’t want this asshole so much as looking at her. To his surprise, the gruff voice belonged to a kid, or at least barely more than a kid, who looked even more worried about the situation than Rythian felt. He rather thought that whatever had gone wrong in this kid’s life to drive him to this point must have been something unpleasant, and he got the feeling that he might actually be able to talk him down._

_“Alright, let’s not do anything rash. You don’t need that gun. I’ll give you my money and we’ll go our separate ways, alright?” The kid made no move to lower the gun, and very slowly, Rythian reached out in an attempt to gently push it safely away._

_This would be the last mistake he ever made, as he found quite suddenly that he had underestimated the kid’s jumpiness. He heard the bang and was dropping to the ground before he actually felt the pain, which was incredibly intense. It wasn’t instantaneous, but he found himself groggily thinking that the bullet must have severed his jugular as he watched the panicked mugger making a run for it, his hopes of money clearly forgotten in his panic over what he had just done. The last thing Rythian remembered of his physical body was the sound of Zoey frantically screaming his name as everything went dark._

~~~

“...Bummer.”

Both Sjin and Rythian stared at Sips, the former clearly trying to hold back a laugh, while the latter just looked incredulous. Sips was feeling just a bit cornered by the looks they were giving him.

“What?! What else am I supposed to say to a story like that?”

Rythian squeezed his eyes shut and reached up a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, obviously trying not to get angry. He took in a deep breath and released it slowly before finally speaking again. “Look. The point wasn’t to garner your sympathies anyway. I need your help. Believe me, if I could go to anyone else on this damn planet, I would. As it happens, however, you’re the first living person I’ve encountered who could see me, so… as much as it pains me to admit this, you are my only hope.” Now it was Sips’ turn to look incredulous.

“Me? What do you expect me to do? It’s not like I can wave a magic wand and bring you back to life. Believe me, I would if I could. I like Zoey. She knows how to make coffee that isn’t completely fucking awful. You’re not exactly a charmer, but what can I say, it sounds like she liked you and there’s no accounting for taste. I don’t see how anyone could fix this, though.”

Rythian rolled his eyes again, and Sips found himself marveling at just how expressive he could be with only the top half of his face even showing. “This isn’t about me, you absolute idiot. It’s about her. She’s blamed herself ever since that night. She won’t let herself be happy, even though she’s found someone she could be happy with. She needs to know that it wasn’t her fault.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s all well and good, but how the hell am I supposed to convince her of that?”

“Just tell her… Tell her that Romeo loved Juliet with all of his heart, but that story had a terrible ending. She needs to find herself a new one.”

Nothing was said for several long moments before Sjin broke the silence. “Are you sure? Because that’s just cheesy as fuck.”

Sips hadn’t known that a ghost could hit another ghost, let alone punch him full in the face. Today was just full of learning new things. Ignoring the scuffle that was now going on around him, he pulled out his phone and punched in Zoey’s speed-dial. “Zoey? I’ve gotta talk to you about something.”

~~~

It had gone a lot better than Sips had thought it would. Zoey had been surprisingly receptive to what Sips had to say, although given how cheery she always was around him, he hadn’t been entirely prepared for the tears. He found himself awkwardly patting her on the back while she sobbed into his chest, giving a muffled, near hysterical ramble about how she’d always had a feeling Rythian was still around. Something about cold chills always seeming to follow her, and a weird tendency for candles to ‘romantically’ light themselves whenever she tried to spend time with her not-quite-girlfriend. Sips watched over her shoulder as Sjin quirked an eyebrow at Rythian, who looked about ready to punch him again. He hoped it wouldn’t actually come to that. It would kind of spoil the moment.

It took some time before the sobs slowed to gentle sniffles and Zoey pulled away, looking slightly embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt.” She murmured haltingly, giving a bit of a wet sounding laugh.

“Nah, no problemo. It’s just a shirt. I can change it.” They both jumped as Zoey’s phone went off, and she mumbled apologies as she picked it up.

“Hi, babe… No, I’m alright. Better than alright, really.” Her blotchy, tear streaked face split into a bit of a smile as she listened to whatever it was the girl on the other end of the line was saying. “Yeah, you know… that actually sounds really nice. Eight sound alright? Alright. I’ll see you then, babe.” She hung up the phone and looked down at the floor, awkwardly running a hand through her mussed up red hair. “That was my uh… my friend Fiona. She- well, I’ve got to get going, but um… well, thank you.” She leaned in rather suddenly and gave Sips a peck on the cheek before excusing herself and making her way out of the apartment.

“I dunno if I’d say she’s over you, but that certainly seemed like a start to me. Besides, I’ll bet this Fiona’s way more attractive than you are.”

Sips was sure that Sjin would have earned himself yet another punch to the face if it weren’t for the fact that a door had suddenly appeared on the wall behind the television. All three of them noticed it the moment it appeared, even though it looked as though it had been there all along. Rythian narrowed his eyes at it, quirking his head to one side.

“I couldn’t even begin to explain why, but… I think that’s for me.” He murmured thoughtfully, staring at the door. Something about it made Sips terribly uncomfortable, and he could tell from the look on Sjin’s face that he felt the same, but Rythian didn’t seem to have any such feelings about it. In fact, he seemed drawn to it, and he made his way over, hesitantly reaching out for the handle. He turned to look over his shoulder at the two of them. “I’ve got a feeling that this is goodbye. Thanks for the help.” He paused momentarily, before adding a muttered, “Assholes.” and opening the door.

The light that emerged when it opened was blinding, and by the time it had faded, the door was gone, and so was Rythian.

~~~

“I didn’t get a fucking piece of my work done today.” Sips mumbled in a conversational tone, several hours later. All joking aside, he had somehow actually found himself back on that fucking couch with Sjin, watching fucking Ghost. For a long time, Sjin didn’t say anything, and when Sips eventually turned to see why, Sjin was staring at him as if he was a particularly difficult puzzle that he wanted to solve. “What?”

“You care a lot more than you let on, you know that?” Sjin said finally, still not looking away from him. Sips snorted.

“Shut the fuck up and watch the damn movie. This was your idea, remember?”

Despite what everything that had happened that day might have implied, Sips hated touchy feely stuff. He was immensely relieved when Sjin did as he was told and turned his attention back to the movie. Although he didn’t do so without one more mumbled comment.

“Closet softy.”

“Fucking asshole.”

Sjin let out a barking laugh, and Sips couldn’t help but smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone was wondering, the ghosts in this universe are semi-based on the ghosts in Being Human, although I'm taking plenty of liberties with it. I've always liked those ghosts, so they seemed like a good form of inspiration.


	3. Chapter Three

As much as Sips had made a stink about missing it, the truth was, being back at work was… weird. Over the course of just one short week at home, he had grown accustomed to Sjin’s constant presence in his life. Even when he wasn’t in the room with Sips, which was rare (thus far he had really only agreed to the bathroom being off limits, since he didn’t need to use it anyway), he was always somewhere in the apartment. Sips wasn’t sure if he was imagining things, but it even seemed like all he needed to do on those few occasions when he was alone was to think about his ghostly friend, and poof, he would appear. Sips had even asked him about it, thinking perhaps he could read his mind, but Sjin had denied having that particular ability.

He was certainly thinking about Sjin now, and the kind of obnoxious gangly bastard hadn’t coalesced into being yet, but then, he had also never left the apartment to Sips’ knowledge. Even with proof that it was possible to leave the place of one’s death in the form of Rythian, Sjin didn’t even seem interested in giving it a try. Perhaps later, Sips would encourage him to give it a go, just to see what happened. Hell, maybe a simple case of spiritual agoraphobia was what was keeping him stuck here, rather than moving on.

An unpleasant feeling filled Sips’ chest at the thought of that happening, and he did his best to ignore it. If the experience with Rythian was any indication, being stuck among the living wasn’t a good thing, and moving on to whatever came next was what spirits were supposed to do. He knew that Sjin would eventually figure it out, the weird budding friendship that they shared be damned. In fact, it might be best to start focusing on whatever was keeping the guy there as soon as possible. Sips had never particularly enjoyed goodbyes, and it was always easier to get them over with early, before things got too complicated.

He was pulled out of his reverie by a knock at his office door and he shook his head, trying to get his mind back on track. Before he’d even given the okay, the door opened and Zoey’s head poked inside, her usual bright smile back on her face. While she had always seemed cheerful, there was a much more genuine air to that cheer now than he could remember in the time he had known her. “Just wanted to let you know I’m off for the night! You’ll head home soon as well, won’t you? It’s already half seven.” Sips registered this news with mild shock and turned to look at the clock on his wall. Last he’d payed attention, it had only been nearing four, but Zoey was right. No wonder his concentration was shot. And on top of that…

“Shit, Big Brother’s on at eight.” He grumbled, shooting to his feet and gathering his things in a flurry of activity before rushing past Zoey, who was still staring at him with a confused expression on her face.

“I didn’t know you even watched reality television.”

“Yeah, never did, but I do now. Seeya tomorrow.” He paused just long enough to give Zoey a friendly wave, then rushed to get out of the building. He had plans, god dammit.

~~~

The drive back to his apartment building was uneventful for most of the way. That is, until he pulled up to the stop light at an intersection only a few blocks from home. That’s when his battery cut out and his car shut off without warning. His annoyance at the delay was great enough that he hadn’t even put two and two together that this was the very intersection where his accident had occurred.

Reaching to open the car door, he found it locked. Or stuck? The lock was not down, but it wouldn’t budge, and neither would the passenger’s side door when he reached across to try it. This seemed merely odd until he shivered at a sudden cold draft despite the windows all being shut. Yeah, this wasn’t just odd. It was creepy as fuck. Already on edge, he was probably lucky he didn’t just drop dead from a heart attack when he glanced up at his rear view mirror an eye staring back at him from the back seat.

“Jeeesus christ, who the fuck are you?!” His response came out in a very undignified yelp as he twisted around backwards in his seat and smashed his back against the steering wheel, trying in vain to put some distance between himself and his unexpected passenger.

“Well hey there!” The figure in the back seat greeted in a tone that would have seemed almost friendly if it weren’t for the somewhat manic edge to it. His appearance wasn’t helping the mood in the car either.

From what Sips could tell, the man that was currently sprawled across his backseat as if he owned the place had probably once been handsome. His hair was a lovely shade of auburn, and he was dressed quite nicely in a long coat over what looked like it was quite the expensive suit. “Once been”, though, was the operative phrase here. He was anything but handsome now. Those expensive looking clothes were soaked in blood to the point where Sips couldn’t really tell what color they had once been, apart from some golden embroidery that was visible in the light from a nearby streetlamp, and his torso looked as though it had been quite literally crushed. It was too flat- much too flat.

That, of course, wasn’t even touching on the state of his face. One side showed evidence of what had clearly once been an attractive bone structure, with some freckles visible under a piercing golden brown eye. The other side of his face, well… it didn’t look to be much of a face at all anymore. The relatively intact half of his mouth quirked into a dangerous smirk as Sips stared at him, and suddenly Sips was extremely concerned for his own well being.

“Yeah, hello. How are you? You look kinda dead. I’m fine. That was a great chat, wasn’t it? We’ll have to get together again sometime.” As Sips talked in a conversational tone, he desperately reached a hand to the side, trying just about every button on his doors in an attempt at unlocking them. It didn’t seem to be doing any good, though. His car was dead in the water, so to speak, and he was trapped inside of it with Mr. Human Pancake himself. “I’ve got a really important appointment to catch, so if you don’t mind opening the door for me, I’ll just-”

“Shut up, would you please?” The man in the backseat spoke loudly, and it became quite apparent that all Sips was managing to do was piss him off even more. There wasn’t really any going back now, was there?

“Yeaaahhh, no can do buddy. I like talking. Especially when I’m stuck in close quarters with a stranger, you know what I mean? It’s kinda like we’re in an elevator right now. I always have to make smalltalk in elevators.”

Sips swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut, raising up a hand defensively as the man surged forward, one hand making for his throat. The choke hold never came though, and he opened his eyes again to find that said hand had disappeared into his throat instead. He couldn’t help a chuckle at that. Of course this guy couldn’t touch him, he was fucking incorporeal. Judging from the grimace on the intact part of his face, Sips’ assailant had rather forgotten this little detail as well.

“See? This is pointless. You can’t even touch me, so why bother holding me prisoner? I have no fucking idea what I did to piss you off so badly, but let’s just let bygones be bygones, alright?” Sips hoped that this guy would just back off now, suitably embarrassed. This is not what happened. In fact, he brought his broken face even closer to Sips’, a dangerous glint in that one eye.

“Did you seriously just say that you don’t know what you did to piss me off? Not even a friggin’ inkling?” His voice was low and emotionless, lacking even the earlier manic edge, and Sips felt a ball of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. Something about that tone made the creepiness of the ghoulish face in front of him seem to pale in comparison. So he said the only thing he could think of to say; something stupid.

“Did I take the last Mountain Dew at that pizza place three blocks over? Because I’m sorry man, but you can’t really blame me for that.”

About halfway through this particularly stupid comment, Sips noticed that the car was moving, just slightly. With a sparking noise, the engine roared back to life, and it began to move faster. With a start, Sips turned his back on his passenger to face the windshield again, jamming his foot down on the breaks. The car didn’t slow down in the slightest. He looked up at the rearview mirror to see that the half smirk had crossed the ghost’s face once again, and he had settled back across the seats, the picture of quiet amusement.

“Did you just cut my fucking breaks?” Sips asked evenly, trying his best to remain calm. Pissing off the already pissed off ghost had obviously been a huge mistake.

“I didn’t cut them, I just disconnected them.” The man in the back yawned and stretched, and Sips felt his stomach twist at the way his left arm bent in a way that it really shouldn’t have.

“Maybe wanna re-connect them, then?” His question was completely ignored, as his new acquaintance appeared to be very invested in staring at his own bloodied fingernails. “Okay, look. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. If it was intentional somehow, I’m really sorry. If it wasn’t intentional, I’m still sorry.” Still no response, and while he was usually pretty good at just accepting frightening things, Sips was starting to feel a very real edge of panic. Especially when the car reached the top of the hill above an incredibly busy intersection. At this point, the man in the back leaned forward, resting his broken arm in a leisurely manner on the headrest of the passenger’s seat.

“Okay, so, last chance here. Still no idea what you did? Nothing? The name Ridge, does that mean anything to you?” The man- Ridge?- studied Sips with his good eye, seemingly sizing him up. Sips racked his brain. Now that he actually heard the name Ridge, he knew that there was something he should be remembering, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what. He was so, so royally screwed. Ridge let out a sigh and shook his head. “That’s a shame. I guess I’ll be seeing you around the spiritual plane.” With his words, the gas pedal slammed down of its own accord, and the car was speeding off towards the busy intersection below. Sips took a deep breath and shut his eyes, trying to quell the bubble of panic rising up within him. Maybe he hadn’t been meant to survive that car crash in the first place. Maybe this was some Final Destination type bullshit. He didn’t particularly want to die, but that seemed to be where he was headed at about eighty miles an hour, so what use was there complaining about-

With a painful jolt, the car screeched to a stop, about a foot into the busy intersection. A car swerved to avoid him, and there was a lot of angry honking, but he was alive, and a glance to the side showed him why. It would seem that Sjin was capable of leaving the apartment, if the chokehold in which he currently held Sips’ assailant was any indication.

“I’ve been fuckin’ about with messing up technology for decades, you mother trucker. You fuck with him again and I will perform a fucking exorcism on your ass. Never have done, but I think getting rid of you would be plenty of incentive to learn how.” Sips’ bearded companion hissed into Ridge’s ear, his teeth clenched and his eyes narrowed. Sips had only known Sjin for about a week, so he really shouldn’t have been surprised to find out that there were sides to him he hadn’t yet seen. Sjin seemed so harmless most of the time, though, and Sips had never expected to see the gangly, hipstery fuck actually look threatening. Right now, though? Sips actually felt kind of sorry for Ridge. He could see Sjin tightening his chokehold around the other ghost’s neck, and he found himself wondering if they could actually feel pain. When he opened his mouth to ask, however, Sjin gave him a look before he could even speak. “The fuck are you still doing here? The door’s unlocked, get your ass out of this car.”

Normally, Sips had a problem with being told what to do. He supposed it came with the territory of running a company- he wasn’t used to it, so he didn’t like it. For once in his life, though, he didn’t complain. He just shoved open the car door and took off in the direction of his apartment as fast as his legs could carry him.

~~~

It had been an exhausting commute, to say the least, but Sips couldn’t even begin to sleep. He’d immediately headed to his computer when he arrived at the apartment, and within moments, he’d confirmed the suspicions he’d had from the moment he had heard the ghost’s name.

Ridgedog. He’d heard the name in the hospital, shortly after he had woken up. Nilesy had mentioned him when referring to the other party in the collision. According to both Nilesy and the reports that he was now reading, this Ridge had been the one to cause the accident in question, due to a combination of speeding and a disregard for traffic lights. His family had been afraid that Sips would press charges, but it wasn’t as though his insurance didn’t cover his expenses. Besides… while Sips hadn’t exactly admitted as such, he wasn’t about to make an already grieving family take a huge monetary hit on top of everything else. He wasn’t a complete monster.

“He blames you.” Sjin’s voice suddenly sounded in his ear, and Sips nearly fell off his chair, as on edge as he already was. Sjin gave him an apologetic smile from where he floated just off the ground beside him. “Sorry. He was trying to convince me why I shouldn’t rip his head off- not that I actually can, mind you. But he insists that you were the one at fault in the accident. I can see that those police reports beg to differ.”

“I don’t remember shit about it myself, but everything seems to say it was his fault, yeah.” Sips replied tiredly, rubbing a hand over his face. Shutting down the computer, he sighed and made his way to his bedroom, where he flopped down on the bed face first. After a moment, the hair on his back stood on end, and he had a feeling he knew exactly what had caused it. “Sjin, are you in my god damn bed?” He questioned, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Really more… over it, than in it.” Came the cheerful response, and Sips unburied his face in order to look at Sjin. He hadn’t exactly been lying. He was floating on his side about an inch above the duvet, but it somehow still felt a bit more intimate than Sips felt like acknowledging. Probably didn’t help that the bearded motherfucker was openly staring at him.

“Didn’t we just have a discussion about boundaries? You’re in my bubble.” He might have been complaining on principle, but the fact was, he didn’t really mind that much. He was still more than a little bit freaked out, and having a comforting presence so near to him was actually kind of nice.

“We agreed that I wasn’t allowed to go into the bathroom. If you want me to leave, though, I will.” Was Sips imagining the note of disappointment in Sjin’s voice at this? He had to be.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’d say just remember that I only let people spoon me with explicit consent, but it’s not like you could do it even if you wanted to.” The disappointment on Sjin’s face was actually obvious now, but Sips decided not to ask. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the reason behind it. Instead, he quickly changed the subject. “I didn’t know you could actually leave the apartment.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know I could either.”

“How did you even know to come to my car right then?”

A silence stretched out as Sips awaited some kind of an explanation, while Sjin just turned onto his back and stared awkwardly up at the ceiling. When he finally did speak, the answer didn’t really explain much. “I don’t know. You needed help. I just… knew.”

“Thanks. That’s really clarifying.” Sips deadpanned, shifting onto his own back to join Sjin in his contemplation of the ceiling. “Do you think he knows where I live?”

“I don’t think he knows he can even leave that couple of blocks, yet. I might have implied that it takes decades of being dead to… transcend spiritual planes that allow you to leave the… domain of your demise? I dunno, just wanted it to sound impressive so he wouldn’t question it too much.” Sips started laughing a few seconds into this explanation, and by the time it had finished, Sjin was chuckling too. “Regardless, I think you should probably find yourself a new route to work. Just until we figure out what the heck to do about that rude dude.”

“We? What are we, partners in crime now?”

“Partners in crime _solving_ more like. Dead but not gone? Can’t seem to move on? Call the Ghostblusters.”

“Ghostblusters?”

“Just writing around copyright. Don’t want to get sued by Bill Murray. Besides, we’re not busting ghosts. We’re blustering at them in a vain attempt at helping them find their door.”

Sips turned his head to look at his friend, a frown beginning to form on his face despite the levity of the current conversation. Now seemed as good a time as any to bring up the thought he’d had earlier that day, right? “What about your door? Don’t you think we should work on finding that?”

Sjin turned to meet his gaze, a somewhat forced looking grin plastered across his features. “What, and miss out on all this adventure? I can go outside again! We can find my stupid door later. Or never. I’m just fine here, why the hell would I need some door?” It was obvious from the face smile and the overly cheerful voice that he’d put on that Sips had somehow hit a nerve. Not wanting to push further, he chose to just drop it.

“You didn’t record Big Brother, did you?” He questioned, thinking that something stupid and pointless was the perfect distraction.

“Nah, I didn’t, but I did catch the first fifteen minutes, and there’s a repeat on tomorrow.”

“Well, we can watch the second half tomorrow then. Wanna fill me in on the first part?”

Sjin wasted absolutely no time doing exactly what had been requested of him, not that Sips had any real way of knowing if he was actually providing a recap or just making all of it up on the spot. It could go either way, really, and truth be told, he didn’t care. It was the comforting sound of his friend’s voice that he had really wanted, and within a few minutes, that voice had successfully lulled him to sleep.


	4. Chapter Four

“Zoey tells me you’re some kind of exorcist.”

Sips really, really wished he hadn’t just heard that. Life had calmed down since he started taking some less used backroads to avoid the main intersections on his way to work, and he liked it that way. Now here he was, trying to get some work done, and being berated with stupid questions by a gangly little Scotsman.

“Hold that thought ooone second, Nilesy, hm?” He mumbled as he pressed a button on his desk phone before talking into the speaker. “Zoey, I know you’re on your lunch break, but when you get back you and I need to have a little talk about keeping things to ourselves.” That out of the way, he turned his attention back to Nilesy, arms crossed and an annoyed expression on his face. “Okay. First of all? I’m not an exorcist. Second; do you know how to knock? My door is there for a reason.” Something about Nilesy had always reminded him of a scared puppy, and as such, he was actually mildly impressed when he held his ground rather than backing off.

“Right, sorry about that, boss. I’ll knock next time. It’s just, I’ve got a situation, haven’t I? I need a ghost exorcised.”

“What part of ‘I’m not an exorcist’ did you miss, dumbo?”

Nilesy plopped down on the chair on the opposite side of Sips’ desk, not bothering to wait for an invitation. Probably a smart idea on his part, because Sips had no intention of giving him one.

“Zoey said you helped her out with her old dead boyfriend, alright? I need help, and I’m not leaving until I get it. I’m fuckin’ desperate, man.”

In hindsight, Sips realized he hadn’t actually told Zoey to keep what had happened the previous week to herself, so truth be told, this was entirely his fault. He really should have stressed the importance of discretion.

“Okay, just shut up. I’m not an exorcist, I have no god damn idea what I’m doing, and I’ve helped exactly one person with exactly one ghost. Go find a professional or something. Hire a priest? I don’t fucking know.” Nilesy just stared at him, and after over a minute of silence, Sips finally gave in. “Alright. Fine. Why do you even need an exorcism? Which I need to stress, I am completely fucking incapable of doing.”

“Right. Well, you see… It’s a bit of a long story. I’ve been renting this poolhouse from this elderly couple. It’s sort of awkward, because they’ll just be using the pool right out my window, but you know, I’m hoping to be able to purchase a real house with a good stretch of land by the time I’m thirty and the rental is a fuckin’ fantastic deal-”

“Okay, let me stop you right there, because I don’t actually care. Are you going to keep wasting my time or are you going to get to the friggen’ point, Poolhouse Guy?”

Nilesy didn’t bat an eyelash at his new nickname, nor did he seem particularly bothered by the fact that Sips had just cut him off so rudely. Letting out a sigh, he continued.

“Right, so, point is… Sometimes I get up, middle of the night. Just want a drink of water, as you do. So I go downstairs in the kitchen and I hear… noises.”

“Terrifying.”

“That’s not all! Come on, I’m not a total pansy. There’s also this door, and you know, sometimes it just… opens by itself.”

“How spoopy.”

“Fine, man. You have a better explanation?!”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a loose latch and a gentle breeze?”

“Fine, if you’re gonna give me crap about it, maybe I’ll find myself a priest after all. Remind me not to fight so hard for your survival next time you’re half dead in a hospital bed, yeah?” It was obvious that Nilesy was finally getting annoyed, despite his eerie ability to just accept everything up until this point. Sips knew Nilesy fairly well, and seeing him that outright angry was strange. That was what finally convinced him that even if Nilesy was seeing and hearing things, it was legitimately bothering him. And Sips did kind of owe him.

“Alright, fine. Calm down, would ya? I told you I’m not an exorcist but I guess I could take a look or something. You busy tonight?”

He maybe started regretting this decision just the tiniest bit when Nilesy’s pissed off expression turned to an enormous smile, his face positively radiating gratitude. Sips really, really hoped he hadn’t just earned himself a sad puppy dog tagalong for life.

~~~

“Why are you dragging me along again?” Sjin was asking as he floated along beside Sips. The two of them were making their way up the drive of a very swank looking mansion. Sips was almost jealous of Nilesy, but he figured his own penthouse was probably better than the poolhouse they had yet to lay eyes on yet. Besides, it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford better. He just liked the convenience and the proximity to his office. Who need some awesome looking, totally swish mansion?

“I don’t want to hang out with Nilesy by myself. Besides, you’re the one that decided we were doing this fuckin’ ghosty... medium crap. Why would I go on a ghost mission without my partner, eh?” Sips wasn’t about to admit it, but he was actually just kind of nervous. He knew that Nilesy was probably imagining things. He’d once seen Nilesy jump about a foot off the ground in the employee break room to land on top of the sofa, because he’d thought he saw a mouse. On the chance that Nilesy was right and the place was haunted, though, he really wanted some backup.

Sips had always thought himself to be a pretty self sufficient person, but the other day in that car, he’d been absolutely helpless. If Sjin hadn’t shown up when he did with his ability to actually make physical contact with Ridge, Sips would most likely have looked a lot like Ridge did right now. A human pancake. Ghost pancake? Until he could think of a way to defend himself on his own, it wouldn’t hurt to have a ghostly attack dog around any time he might expect danger. That’s what he told himself, anyway. He was mostly trying to ignore the nagging feeling that he’d just dragged him along because it was starting to feel more natural to have him there than not.

“Besides, I figured you’d want some fresh air. I know you don’t have to breathe or anything, but isn’t it nice to get out of that fucking building for once?” He turned to look at Sjin, and saw that the bearded man actually looked a bit offended. What the hell had he even said? “What, I’m just saying, you get to go out and see the world again. Isn’t that better than being stuck in the same place for decades?”

“I didn’t mind being stuck there, actually. I built it. That ‘fucking building’ was my life’s biggest accomplishment.” He didn’t seem quite so offended, now. If anything it was more… regretful?

“Wait, wh-” Before Sips could question him further, though, a certain dark haired Scotsman noticed Sips out the window and came running down the road to greet him.

“Oh thank god you’re here. I think this fucker’s angry. I can just hear his moaning echoing away throughout the place. Used to just be scratching noises and that, but as soon as I got home today, well-” He motioned for Sips to follow him and headed back toward the small building behind him. When he reached the front door, he opened it, but didn’t step inside, and to be fair, Sips could hear why. A horrendous racket echoed through the front hallway. It sounded like a god damn banshee, and for a moment, Sips found himself wondering it those were real. If ghosts were, why not, right? And what else could explain that fucking caterwauling-

Oh.  Well, that was fucking obvious, now that he thought of it.

“Sjin, can you like, check the walls or something for a furball?”

Sjin immediately did as requested, disappearing into the house with a chuckle. At least the ridiculousness of the situation seemed to have cheered him up. Nilesy, meanwhile, just looked incredibly confused.

“Erm… who were you talking to just then?” He questioned, looking around as if concerned that he had missed the presence of some guest that Sips had brought along. which, in fairness, he had.

“My ghost friend. He’s having a look around in your house for a cat.”

“I- your ghost- a cat? You- ...What?”

“Shut up, Nilesy. You come off as a lot smarter when you’re not talking. I think it’s the glasses.”

Their conversation -if you could call it that- was suddenly interrupted, at least for Sips, by Sjin’s voice shouting from inside. “Found the ‘vengeful spirit’! He’s hiding in the crawl space in the attic and this place is seriously lacking in insulation, no wonder every noise he makes is echoing through the walls!”

Sips chuckled to himself and headed into the house, not bothering to give an explanation to Nilesy, who followed along after him anyway, looking terribly confused. Up in the small attic space, he made his way over to where Sjin was peeking in through a little hole in the wall.

“Look at him, would you? Such a terrifying monster.” Sjin said with a chuckle, pointing into the entrance of the hole. A small black cat was peeking out at them, eyes wide and looking as though the slightest sound would spook it. Sips laughed too, and his first impression proved true as the cat quickly ducked back into the hole.

“You don’t have a ghost, Nilesy. You have a cat infestation. I’d recommend either calling animal control or finding a giant rat.”

“If he doesn’t at least get it neutered or spayed, he might have a real cat-astrophe on his hands.” Sjin piped up, and as much as Sips kind of wished it were possible to hit him for that pun, he couldn’t help a laugh.

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag on this case, eh?” He responded, before turning his attention back to a very concerned looking Nilesy. “Ghost buddy, like I said. Don’t question it. Don’t mention it to anyone either, understand? I don’t want to have to open up a can of whoopass on you.”

Nilesy looked like he wanted to say something more, perhaps even question Sips’ sanity, but he opted against it. He made a wide berth around Sips on the opposite side of Sjin, having presumably followed Sips’ gaze to seemingly empty air, and crouched just outside of the hole before reaching out to wiggle his fingers in the air. Sips rather thought that the little feral cat was likely to be a lost cause, but to his surprise, the little cat’s paw shot out to swipe at the offered fingers. Ghosts were seemingly forgotten, if the smile on Nilesy’s face was any indication.

“I take it you don’t want me to call animal control for you.” Sips commented with dry amusement as he watched his employee play with the shy animal. Nilesy looked up at him, smile slightly bashful.

“Nah, that’s alright. Look at the little thing- it’s too cute. He just wants a bit of tuna, right kitty kitty?” The cat made its way fully out of the hole and Nilesy scooped it up carefully. Rather than struggling, it just settled into his arms, loud purrs echoing through the attic. “Erm… Sorry for making a big to do of this. I should have realized it was some kind of animal, but… Get a bit jumpy when I’m on my own, you know?”

“Whatever, Nilesy. Just don’t come crying to me the next time there’s a strange dog in your yard.”

“Deal.”

~~~

Upon arriving back at his apartment building, Sips didn’t immediately head inside. Back when he had bought the place, he hadn’t paid the slightest bit of attention to the aesthetics. It was close to his office, the penthouse was very roomy, and it came pre furnished in a style that wasn’t absolutely horrendous. All of this had been good enough for him. Now for the first time, he actually took the time to gaze up at the tall building in front of him.

It really was nice to look at. It wasn’t one of those overly modern buildings that tried too hard to stand out. The style was perfectly in keeping with the rest of the buildings in the area, but it was far from boring. It wasn’t just some plain old rectangle of bricks. A lot of heart and ingenuity had clearly been put into every aspect of it, from the the various accents to the shape of the windows. Sips didn’t know a god damn thing about architecture, but even he could see a labor of love, now that he knew to look for it.

“It’s just a block of flats, really.” Sjin’s voice came from off to the side, and Sips turned to see his friend looking up at the building as well, a frown on his face.

“It’s not just a block of flats. I don’t know a fuckin’ thing about quality architecture, but this shit is fantastic. Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.” He flashed Sjin a bit of a smile, but his levity didn’t seem to be catching.

“It’s a nice block of flats, but it’s still a block of flats. There’s only so much you can do with a block of flats. You should have seen some of the designs I had. That mansion back at Nilesy’s? Faux-Victorian trash. If you’re going to emulate a classical style you need to fully embrace it, not just pick and choose what you want. Winds up looking like some cobbled together sack of shit otherwise. Exactly like that monstrosity Nilesy’s renters call a home. I had these plans for a farmhouse. It was going to recycle materials from this beautiful turn of the century barn that was set to be demolished. I was going to-” Sjin stopped talking suddenly, his expression dark, and he shook his head. “Nevermind. I’ll just be… somewhere.”

Without any sort of warning or fanfare, he was gone, and Sips stood on the front stoop of his building by himself. He found himself considering, if he’d died right then and there, just how happy he would be with the legacy he would be leaving behind.

After only a few seconds, he decided that it was a question he would rather not investigate too deeply.


	5. Chapter Five

“Page four looks interesting.”

As he was wont to do, Sjin had made himself comfortable floating behind Sips with his head just over his shoulder so that he could read the morning paper along with him. It was a routine that Sips was mostly used to, but it didn’t make the occasional running commentary any less annoying, especially when Sjin tried to point out something that he had seen, thank you very much, and was just choosing to ignore.

“Kinda invested in page five, here.” He grumbled in the hopes that this would be the end of that discussion. Of course, with Sjin, it was never that easy.

“Mysterious problems plague construction site!” Sjin read off the page in a somewhat dramatic voice, clearly revelling in the fact that he was doing the exact opposite of what Sips wanted him to do. “Groundbreaking on a new resort can’t get started. Electrical issues are the least of what construction workers have to worry about. Ropes have snapped, tethers have come undone-”

Sips abruptly pulled the paper closer to his own face in order to block it from Sjin’s view. This proved to be a mistake, as a sudden chill raced down his spine just before he found himself looking at the back of Sjin’s head, which had just phased through his own face in order to continue reading. With a yelp, Sips dropped the paper, knocking over the chair he had been sitting on in an effort to get away from Sjin.

“Okay, NEVER fucking do that again!” Sips yelled from his new position on the floor. He was pointedly ignored as Sjin carried on perusing the paper, which had fallen open on the kitchen table.

“I dunno, Sips, this business… it sounds strange. Supernatural. Almost ghostly, even.” Sjin finally turned his attention back to Sips, a sideways grin on his face. He didn’t seem to be in the least bit sorry about scaring him out of his own chair. “Don’t you want to check it out?”

“No, I don’t want to check it out. It’s Sunday. I want to sit on my ass. Maybe go down the street for some pizza. That is the full extent of what I want from today.” He got to his feet as he spoke, rubbing at what he suspected was a bruised tailbone and grimacing slightly.

“Oh come on, you can sit around doing nothing any damn Sunday. Let’s investigate, we can be the Hardy Boys.”

“Fuck the Hardy Boys.”

“Fine, you can be Nancy Drew.” Sjin obviously wasn’t bothered by the glare Sips cast in his direction at this comment, if the stupid grin on his face was anything to go by. “Or Sherlock Holmes. I’ve certainly got badass facial hair worthy of a Watson.”

“...Badass. That’s the word you’re gonna go with for that thing?”

“Obviously. When’s the last time you saw a guy rock a beard and ‘stache combo as well as this one? Never, I’d wager.”

“No, I’ve never seen someone rock facial hair quite like that. In fact, I still fuckin’ haven’t.”

“I’ll let that misinformed comment slide, but only because I literally can’t get a second or third opinion to prove that you, sir, are grossly wrong about this beard.”

Sips didn’t bother trying to hold back a snort at this. He was of the opinion that Sjin’s beard had probably been something like a drunken mistake, and he’d just grown defensive about it after decades of being stuck with it. It was the stupidest, hipsteriest bit of facial hair that Sips had ever seen, and he wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that Sjin actually managed to kind of pull it off. Even if he did. “You look like the furriest rat in the world died on your face. Are you absolutely sure it isn’t like… its own separate ghost? I won’t judge you if you have one of those relationships with it like those little fish have with sharks.”

This time Sjin snorted, although Sips didn’t really think he had any right to sound amused. He was totally losing this argument. “Put your money where your mouth is, then. There’s clearly some kind of spiritual goings on over at that construction site. What do you say we find that ghost and let him or her settle this debate?"

“You don’t even have any money! What kind of a bet is that?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of a gentleman’s bet? The prize here is bragging rights, and they’re worth more than a barrel of cash.”

Sips narrowed his eyes at Sjin, who was looking just a bit too snide for his liking. He had to say yes now, and they both knew it. If he refused, it was as good as admitting that he was wrong. Like that was going to fucking happen.

“Fine. You’re on. Now let’s get this fucking field trip over with.” He grumbled, as Sjin’s snide grin only widened.

It occurred to Sips suddenly that Sjin’s goal had most likely been to get him to that construction site this entire time.

He had a feeling he’d just been played like a god damn fiddle.

~~~

The source of the mysterious disruptions was easy enough to spot from the moment Sips and Sjin arrived at the lot. Between it being a Sunday and the slew of difficulties they had been facing, the condemned lot was empty of any workers, and Sips was able to stroll right on in, his invisible Watson at his side. The lot wasn’t really anything to write home about. It had obviously once been a small park, but most of the trees had already been chopped down, and the area had been almost entirely cleared. Everything, that is, except for one tree.

At the very center of the lot was an enormous oak tree, surrounded by yellow tape, but otherwise remarkably unscathed. Between its size and the way that even the grass in a small circle around it seemed untouched by machinery, Sips’ eyes were drawn to it from the moment they stepped onto the property. More important to their current goals, however, was the blonde boy that he could see lounging on one of the larger branches about halfway up the tree, his back rested against the sturdy trunk. He wasn’t immediately noticeable, as his green shirt helped him blend in with the foliage, but it only took a moment for Sips to spot him there.

“Hey, Karate Kid!” Sips called out as he stepped closer to the tree, settling easily on the nickname when he saw the black headband wrapped around the boy’s forehead. What the hell was the point? It wasn’t even keeping the hair out of his eyes.

The boy’s mouth dropped open as he looked down at Sips and Sjin, obviously surprised at being addressed. He closed his mouth fairly quickly though, and sat up on the branch before appearing suddenly on a lower one, his face set in a somewhat pathetic approximation of a stern expression. “Don’t you take another step closer. I’m IntheLittleWood and, um-” He faltered here, before brightening as he settled on a way to finish his little threat display. “And I speak for the trees.”

For several seconds, all three remained silent. Then Sjin began to crack up, and Sips followed suit within another few seconds. Sips was actually crying with laughter by the time he managed to speak again.

“L-look at this shit, Sjin! We’ve got the fuckin’ Lorax here!”

“Where’s the ol’ Onceler, you reckon? Off wringing a few Swomee Swan necks?”

“Think he can get us a deal on a Thneed? I always thought those sounded pretty fucking fantastic.”

“The hell kind of a name is ‘IntheLittleWood’ anyway? Think it’s his spirit name?”

The boy on the branch was rather red faced by the time he interrupted them with a frustrated groan. “Oh would you both come off it! I didn’t have a speech prepared alright? Just settled on the first thing I thought of. What do you lot have against the Lorax, anyway?”

Sips turned his attention from Sjin back to this new ghost, still chuckling. “Nothing at all. Good old Seuss was a literary genius. Doesn’t mean you can just steal his heavy handed environmental shpiel and get away with it, LittleWood.”

“...It’s Martyn.” The boy mumbled, his face even redder than it had been before.

“Okay, Martyn then. We have an important question to ask you.” Sips paused momentarily, before pointing a thumb in Sjin’s direction. “His beard; what are your thoughts on it? Ugly as sin, right?”

Martyn stared at the two of them, a look of utter confusion on his face. “Are you having a laugh? Aren’t you here to try and get me to let those construction workers do their thing?”

“Don’t see why we should, really.” Sjin replied with a shrug as he looked around at the land around them. “Sounds to me like the resort they have planned is going to be a fucking eyesore.”

“Buildings are kind of his thing.” Sips informed Martyn matter of factly. “Gotta say, I’m with him on that though. Why the hell should we try to make you leave? I don’t really see why you’re so set on staying, though. It’s just a tree.”

That initial bold burst of anger was back with a vengeance as Martyn suddenly appeared on the ground, getting in Sips’ face as he spoke. “Just a tree? This tree is centuries old! It’s been here longer than any person; longer than most of the bloody buildings! What right do some builders have to take that life away, huh?”

Sips was just getting ready to make a comment about Martyn making a mountain out of a molehill when he saw that Sjin’s amused expression had given way to a thoughtful frown. When Sjin saw his questioning look, he quirked one side of his mouth into a half smile, then turned to Martyn. “I get it. Honestly I do. This tree’s a natural landmark. If we were talking a historical building, I’d probably be the one in your place.”

“Let me just be clear, here. I’m not going to spend my Sunday trying to save a tree.” Sips spoke up, feeling that it was important to be upfront about this. Both of his companions turned to give him looks; Martyn’s was one of mild annoyance, while Sjin’s was a pleading expression that stopped just short of actual puppy dog eyes. “I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation. Fighting for the rain forests and shit? Probably a good plan, but I have no fucking time to waste on singular god damn trees.”

This seemed to be more than enough for Martyn, who let out a heavy sigh and teleported back up above their heads within the branches. Sjin just continued to pout in a pathetic manner. Sips was not going let it get to him. He refused. Sjin could pout all he wanted.

“Fine.. We’ll save the damn tree.” Sips found himself mumbling. His resolve to refuse had lasted all of thirty seconds. He told himself it was just because Sjin would have talked his ear off about it until he changed his mind anyway, but to be honest, he’d have felt like more of a dick than even he would have liked, had he refused to help out. Especially when he knew he could do so easily.

“I’ll just have to have a word with the contractors. Anyone can be swayed with money, I think they can be persuaded to move their plans somewhere else for a good enough offer. Much as I still kinda dream of having a pool of money like Scrooge McDuck, I think I can spare enough for a dozen measly acres. ”

~~~

By that afternoon, Sips had indeed become the proud owner of a shitty former park on the edge of town. He had no idea what he planned to do with it, but hey, at least the tree was safe,and that might shut Martyn and Sjin up. They had decided to celebrate with pizza (or rather, Sips had decided to while the other two gave him mildly jealous looks for being able to eat it), and he was currently seated in the grass below the old oak, chomping away at a slice.

“So, Martyn-” He started conversationally, voice somewhat muffled by his full mouth. He swallowed the bite before continuing. “You feeling any different? Seeing any new doors on those buildings across the street? Feeling some super spiritual tug to ‘move on’?”

The blonde boy stared. Sips wasn’t really sure if he was flabbergasted by the questions or just still jealous of his delicious pizza. “What, are you having a giraffe? Do you think that tree was what was keeping me here?” When Sips, whose mouth was full again, nodded in response, Martyn groaned. “Really? You think I’m sticking around here because of one tree? I’ll admit, that one’s always been a favorite of mine, I used to play in this park as a kid. And I really appreciate you saving it, but one tree won’t stop the environment from falling apart. There’s too much of nature that still needs protecting.”

“So what, you’re just gonna… stick around here until the environment is safe? You know that might take centuries, if it even happens, right?”

“Yeah, well, I’m patient. Besides, I don’t necessarily think everything needs to be totally safe. I’m not an idiot. Call it old fashioned, I’d just like to see people actually giving a crap around here again. In my day, people actually fought for things like this. Sit ins, protests… People still protest the ‘big stuff’, sure, but who decided parks and old trees didn’t qualify as big stuff? They’re important too. I guess it’d just be nice to really see that someone out there still cares.”

There didn’t really seem to be much to say to that, in Sips’ mind at least. So he just shrugged and carried on eating his pizza.

~~~

“There’s gotta be something we can do for the guy.” Sips was mumbling as they reentered the penthouse that evening.

“Much as I enjoy seeing Mr. ‘I Don’t Give a Shit’ blatantly giving a shit, I don’t think there is much we can do, unless you’re keen on the idea of starting up a Green initiative in the neighborhood.” He snickered at the annoyed look that Sips cast him at the very suggestion. “Didn’t think so. All things considered, I think you did more than enough today. He didn’t seem unhappy with his lot, either. I think he’ll be fine.”

Sips wasn’t convinced, really, but he couldn’t be bothered to argue against it. Sjin certainly knew more about ghosts than he did, anyway. “Don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with an empty lot, though.”

“Wait for kids to start using it to play sports and then call the cops like a crotchety old man?”

“I like the way you think, Sjin.”

What might have continued on to be a nice little brainstorming session was suddenly interrupted as the text tone on Sips’ phone went off. The message was from Nilesy.

_-Just got out of the shower and I’m more than a little bit freaked out, boss._

Sips rolled his eyes and typed out a response.

_-this is my problem how? i don’t want to hear about your freaky naked body. call a god damn doctor._

The response, when it came, was an annoyed looking emoticon and an image attachment. After a careful peek at the thumbnail to ensure it didn’t contain any obvious nudity, Sips opened up the picture. It showed the fogged up bathroom mirror, on which someone had written the word ‘help’. There was another ding as a new message followed from Nilesy.

_-I somehow don’t think that the fucking cat knows how to write._


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Just because I realized I hadn’t done this yet, shout out to my buds from the Ridgearound Server’s RP half. Ya’ll are my besties, and thank you for putting up with my refusal to shut up about this fic. Also for helping me bounce ideas around. YOU DA BEST GUYS.  
> Also, more seriously; trigger warning for suicide, or kinda-sorta euthanasia.

It only took moments to discover the culprit behind the writing on the mirror when Sips and Sjin arrived at Nilesy’s place later that night. Sips had expected a more difficult time of it, given how badly they’d failed to find any ghostly activity during their previous visit, but Nilesy’s unwanted guest stood out like a sore thumb. Sips almost would have thought that the man lounging on Nilesy’s sofa was just a friend of his, were it not for the fact that Nilesy didn’t even seem to notice him, let alone the fact that he was dripping water all over the carpet.

“Sure took you long enough.” The ghost greeted them immediately, stretching his arms above his head and giving a somewhat dramatic yawn, before turning to them with a shit eating grin on his face. “I’ve been bored out of my skull. Another ten minutes and I’d have started trying to scare the little fucker in earnest. He already jumps at the slightest thing, imagine the fucking heart attack he’d have had if I shut off all the lights.”

The new guy got to his feet, and Sips immediately noticed that he more than gave Sjin a run for his money on the tall and gangly front, a pair of traits that were made even more pronounced by the way the blue suit he wore was more or less plastered to his body by the water that was still dripping off of him. “Name’s Smith. You must be Medium Man and his sidekick, the deceased boy wonder.”

“I dunno, Damp Guy. I think we could come up with better hero names than that.” Sips replied in a flat tone. “Somehow Not Dead Dude and Not Dead Enough Lad?”

“Hey, why am I still the sidekick?”

“Look at your face. It has sidekick written all over it. Besides, you don’t have my charisma.”

“Yeah, I don’t have your charisma, but that’s because I have more charisma than a dry sponge.”

“Okay, fine, maybe you have the charisma of a mangy ferrett. You’re still the sidekick. A superhero can’t have such a lame beard.”

“Martyn would have sided with me on this puppy, you know. You conveniently ‘forgot’ to ask him again after the fact because you were afraid to accept the truth.”

“He would not have, and even if he did, it’s only because he’s a dumbass with no taste either. Hey, Smith, what do you think of his beard? Be brutally honest, he’s not that big a babby, he can take it.”

Nilesy, for his part, looked immensely confused. Sips couldn’t really blame him for that; he was only hearing one third of the conversation. “Erm… Are you talking to your… ghost friend again?”

“Him and your new houseguest, yeah. Oh, by the way, your house is definitely haunted.”

“I haunt the pool more than the house, really.” Smith interjected.

“Your pool- and by extension your house- is definitely haunted.”

To his credit, Nilesy took this reasonably well. While he went even paler than he already was, he also managed to remain standing, and he hadn’t bolted yet. He swallowed audibly and looked around the room, obviously hoping to get some glimpse of the other two parties in this conversation. “…Alright then. Y’know, you probably want your space, don’t you? I’ll just… be in the kitchen. D’you want some tea? Do they want some tea? No, that’s fuckin’ ridiculous, they can’t even drink can they?” Not waiting for an answer, he darted out of the room.

Smith watched him leave, looking positively gleeful about how flustered he had been, then turned his attention back to Sips and Sjin. “Actually, mate, I hate to break it to you, but I like the beard. It’s a bold statement.”

“Bold statement my ass.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Sips. You know full well that I make it look good, just accept it.” Sjin was looking irritatingly smug about this, and Sips found himself wishing that the asshole wasn’t incorporeal, so he could smack that smug look right off his face. Instead, he opted to try to take the mature route on this for once. Or as mature as changing the subject entirely could be.

“The shitty beard isn’t why we’re here, anyway. What do you need help with so badly that it was worth walking in on Nilesy in the shower?”

For the first time since their arrival, that huge grin faded from Smith’s face. “It’s my mates. I need to get them out of prison.”

“…Okay. It’s gotta be said, not really what I was expecting. The hell are they even in for?”

“Well, murder, actually.”

Sips just stared. The silence that fell might have stretched on for a very long time if Sjin hadn’t come forward with the question that both of them wanted to know the answer to. “What the hell even killed you?”

“Leukemia.” Smith responded, his tone matter-of-fact.

“…Excuse me?” Sjin questioned, while Sips simply gestured wildly at Smith’s soaking wet frame.

“You asked what killed me, so I answered the question generally. You didn’t ask what physically did the final deed.”

“Jesus, fine. What was the finishing blow, then?” Sips was starting to get a headache from all of this bullshit.

“I don’t actually know. Presumably, I drowned.”

Okay. Now it was going to be a migraine.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are literally the complete fucking opposite of helpful?” Sips questioned through gritted teeth.

“Oh, every day of my tragically short life.” Smith responded with a dramatic sigh, before chuckling slightly. “Look, what actually killed me isn’t the point. The point is my mates are being blamed for it, and that’s not fair. Sure, all signs point to them having killed me, but it sure as fuck wasn’t because they wanted to. It was because they knew I wanted to die.”

When both Sips and Sjin just stared at him blankly, Smith gave yet another sigh and continued, a bit more seriously this time. “Sounds mad, I know, but you have no idea what it’s like. When you find out you have six months to live, the majority of which will be spent in a hospital bed, then you can judge me.”

“Hey, I’m not judging. Lying in a hospital bed all day sucks ass, even when you know you’re gonna get out of it eventually. If your buddies are in prison, though, I don’t think there’s much I can do about it. Unless you guys are up for some kind of ghostly Great Escape plan?”

“As fun as that idea sounds, I was thinking more along the lines of something that would get them out permanently rather than landing them back in for even longer.” Smith deadpanned, that slightly deranged looking grin already back on his face despite the fact that it was no more appropriate now than it had been at any point in this conversation. “Like maybe finding them a halfway decent lawyer.”

“You know, Smith? Your friends might just be in luck.” Sips replied with a laugh as, almost as if on cue, Nilesy stepped back into the room holding two steaming mugs. “He may not look like it, but that mousey little fucker is the best legal advisor my company’s had.”

Nilesy swallowed and quickly set down the two mugs as his hands started to shake, his voice as he spoke sounding just as nervous as he looked. “Alright, um… What have I got to do with anything now?”

~~~

“Fucking hell, Sips! I’m not that kind of a lawyer! I’m your fucking legal advisor! If you hadn’t noticed, that means I practice fucking business law… Trademarks and shit! I’m not a fucking criminal defense lawyer!” Nilesy looked like he was about to tear out his somewhat messy black hair as he paced back and forth in the sitting room, the mugs of tea he had retrieved seemingly forgotten.

Sips knew that Nilesy was frazzled. Even ignoring the pacing, he’d never seen the kid drop so many F-bombs in such a short period of time. Smith didn’t seem much happier than Nilesy was about the idea.

“This scared little fucker? You expect him to get my mates out? You’re having a laugh, that’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Both of you, shut up. Smith; don’t underestimate him. Beneath that whimpy exterior lies… well, something slightly less whimpy. The point is he’s way more capable than he looks. Nilesy; yeah, I’m not a fucking idiot. You still know all the basics though, don’t you?” Nilesy opened his mouth to argue, but Sips continued before he could interject. “You know the fucking basics, and you can look up what you don’t know. We don’t have a lot of options, here. What am I supposed to do, go up to some defense lawyer saying I got tipped off by a ghost? You know enough of the background here that I don’t have to fucking explain myself. Besides, do you want your house to stay haunted?”

Nilesy’s pacing was beginning to slow, and he’d at least stopped tugging at his own hair. Sips took that as a good sign, and stayed quiet, letting his legal advisor mull the idea over in peace.

“Nothing against him, but do you really trust him with something like this? We could figure something else out.” Sjin piped up.

“Hey, the kid’s literally proven I can trust him with my life. I think he can handle this.”

As if to punctuate this statement, Nilesy plopped down onto the couch beside where Sips had settled during the lengthy pacing session. “Alright, fine. I’ll do it, but you need to realize that there are a lot of fucking lawyers that would do a much better job at this than I would. It’s not my fucking area. I just want that to be abso-fuckin-lutely clear.”

“Abso-fuckin-lutely.” Sips agreed with a solemn nod before giving Smith his attention once again. “Why don’t you tell me what you can remember despite your inconvenient god damn amnesia? I’ll play interpreter or some shit.”

“I’ll do my best, but just know, when I say I really don’t remember a lot, I’m not exaggerating.” Smith shut his eyes, brow furrowed slightly in apparent concentration. “Well, best start at the beginning, yeah? It was a few days after I’d found out I was terminal…”

~~~

_“I’ve decided if I’m gonna die, it’s going to have to be on my own bloody terms. I was thinking tonight. You two free?”_

_In hindsight, Smith realized, it would probably have been better to bring this up in a slightly less flippant manner. Ross was coughing up a storm, having narrowly avoided choking on the bite of toast he had just taken, while Trott was just staring at Smith, his dark eyes wide and his expression as stricken as if someone had just backhanded him right across the face. Of the two, Ross was the first to regain his composure enough to actually speak._

_“You’ve decided fucking what, mate?!” Oh yeah, definitely should have said it less flippantly. Ross looked like he was about to blow a gasket, and given how wild and unkempt his appearance was, even a little bit of annoyance made him look dangerous. When he was livid as he was right now? He was actually downright terrifying. Not that Smith so much as flinched under his hard stare._

_“I want to go out in a blaze of glory! I figured we could have one last lad’s night. Bit of a binge, all of these-” He rattled the full bottle of painkillers that his doctor had prescribed for him. “-and it’ll be permanent lights out.”_

_Smith could tell just by looking at Ross and Trott that neither of them liked this plan in the slightest. Trott was avoiding his eyes to the point of not even looking at him, while Ross was still staring daggers straight at him. Having passed the initial shock, he seemed downright calm, which was arguably even scarier than rage._

_“The fuck happened to ‘cancer is my bitch and it’s going to suck my enormous penis’?”_

_“I think the term I used was ‘ginormous’, actually.”_

_“Smith, this is fucking serious. Not two days ago you were absolutely positive you were going to beat this thing, doctors be damned. The fuck happened?”_

_“Ross, I was in denial. They don’t just bust out the word ‘terminal’ for a case of the sniffles.” Both of his friends stayed silent at this; the annoyance on Ross’ face was starting to fade, while Trott had graduated from avoiding eye contact to staring straight at the ground. “I just want to go out on a high note.”_

_Ross spoke first, despite the fact that he obviously didn’t want to speak. “…Fine… You shouldn’t even-” He’d plainly started off on a tangent, but it didn’t actually seem to be going anywhere.  “This is fucked. You know that, right?”_

_Smith gave a soft laugh. “Yeah, of course. Let’s just do some fuckin’ shots!”_

_Trott still seemed flabbergasted, but Ross went ahead and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, pouring three shots from it. He didn’t seem terribly bothered by what he’d been asked to do. “Fuck all, let’s go!” he mumbled in a blank tone as he downed the shot. Smith laughed and downed his as well._

~~~

“…and?”

“Sorry,  that’s about where my memory goes off into never never land.”

Sips let out a sigh, trying not to sound too exasperated.

“Alright.”

Nilesy gave a deep breath as he finished looking up the information on the case.

“The suspects weren’t very helpful, apparently.Neither of them actually confessed, and they both gave the same response when questioned,”

“What’s that?”

“…uh… Eat shit.”

Sips gave Smith a look. The ghost just shrugged in response.

“I didn’t say they were polite. Just that they were innocent.”

Sips let out a sigh. This was going to be a long couple of days. 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still gotta mention trigger warning for suicide here! That said, ONWARDS!

Sips had been hoping that despite how it sounded, this would be an easy fix. Hell, if Nilesy did his job right, Sips wouldn’t even need to lift a finger to help solve things. As he learned when Nilesy came into his office a few days later, this was not going to be the case.

“They won’t so much as talk to me, boss. Told them I’d received an anonymous tip that they were innocent and after hearing about their case I wanted to take it on. Said it was pro-bono even! They came to meet me and the big hairy one just fixed me with this fucking death glare the whole time while the other one picked at a loose thread on his clothes and pretended like I wasn’t even fucking there. I haven’t decided which was worse.”

This wasn’t what Sips had been wanting to hear, because Smith wasn’t exactly haunting the poolhouse anymore. No, he’d taken it upon himself to follow Sips and Sjin back to the penthouse when it came time to leave that night they’d met (“What, you expect me to just hang out here by myself when I could be with people I can actually talk to? Fuck that.”), and he didn’t seem to have any plans to leave in the foreseeable future. One ghost roommate had been more than enough. At least Sjin respected his privacy and didn’t think it was hilarious to do things like materialise in the bathroom behind him while he was leaning down to spit his toothpaste in the sink. It was like living in a horror movie. One of those shitty ones full of fucking jump scares that didn’t even bother to build up any tension.

“Great, fine. I’ll try to figure out what the heck to do about it, alright? Maybe fuckin’... Sir Chuckles knows how to get them to talk. Least he could do is be useful, he already broke my tv.” Okay, technically that had been a team effort, with both Smith and Sjin shorting the thing out after an argument about what to watch, but he wasn’t going to blame Sjin for it. He’d long since given up control of what they watched to him, and it wasn’t Sjin’s fault that Smith was an obstinate bastard. It wasn’t like Sips was biased toward one side of the argument or anything.

“Er… sorry about that. You know, the whole… accidentally giving you my haunting, thing.” Nilesy had the decency to look a bit ashamed, although Sips suspected he was mostly just relieved at not having to deal with it himself.

“Yeah, well, all the more reason for you to fuckin’ help me fix it. Try to talk to them again. Is there some way you can get me in to talk to them too? I can drag their dumbass buddy along.”

“Well… with their permission, I could. They might give it, they agreed to see me even if they didn’t actually talk to me.”

“Well get the fuck on convincing them, then. I’m heading out of here early, I need to make sure my apartment hasn’t been burned down.”

~~~

The apartment hadn’t actually been burned down, but Sips was dismayed to find that he had been surprisingly close to the mark there, with the direction things seemed to be heading. He opened his front door to the sound of shouting from the kitchen, and he followed that sound to find… an absolute fucking mess. The floor and one wall was covered with what appeared to be some kind of batter, and one of the burners on the stove was, in fact on. Neither of his companions seemed to have noticed him yet, if their complete lack of acknowledgement was any indication, and Sips hadn’t often seen Sjin looking quite so annoyed.

“I told you! I fucking told you! What part of ‘I’ve been dead for forty years and I still can’t lift anything bigger than a kettle’ didn’t make sense to you?! What the fuck made you think you could possibly lift a pan!”

“Look, none of this would have happened if you’d let me pick the channel last night! I can’t help if I get fuckin’ bored!”

“Boredom does not have to translate to pancakes!”

“It does when it can’t translate to shots!”

“You can’t even eat them!”

“Okay, both of you, shut the fuck up!” Sips finally interjected, having had quite enough of their little spat. Both ghosts turned to look at him, Sjin looking mildly embarrassed, while Smith just gave the most bullshit innocent smile Sips had ever seen.

“He did it.” Sjin piped up, pointing a finger at Smith, who’s smile didn’t falter in the slightest.

“Yeah, I figured that part out.” Sips stepped around the puddles of batter on the ground in order to shut off the burner, then turned his attention back to Sjin and Smith, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes slightly in the latter’s direction. “You can figure out how to clean this shit up later. I need to know how to get through to your douchebag friends, they won’t talk to Nilesy.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. They’re like wild animals, they can sense weakness.”

“Well then, they’re screwed, because he’s all they’ve got. He’s seeing if he can get permission to bring me in to see them, and you better believe you’re coming with me if he does.” Sips hadn’t thought this was asking a lot really, but for once, that smile on Smith’s face did actually fade. He actually looked sort of upset, which was kind of off putting, if Sips was honest. “What?”

“I don’t… Can’t he just try harder to get them to talk?”

“Jesus, are you serious? We’re both fucking doing this for you, a little effort won’t kill you... Again.”

“Ah, fuck you. It’s not that. It’s just…I haven’t really seen them since... you know?”

“I don’t actually give a shit about your… guilt complex or whatever the hell this is. Deal with it. If we can go in, we’re going in.”

“You do realize you can’t actually make me, right?”

“Yeah, sure. But I could also refuse to help you and hire a priest for an exorcism. I don’t know if it would work, but do you really want to find out?”

“You sure you’d risk that? I dunno if I’d count on some random ass fucking priest to exorcise the right ghost, mate. Could end up losing your little boyfriend over there instead.”

“Try me, buddy.”

A lengthy silence stretched out, with the two of them glaring at each other, before Smith finally heaved a defeated sigh. “Fine.” He grumbled, before suddenly vanishing.

“He’s fucking charming, isn’t he?” Sips deadpanned, as he looked at Sjin, who’s expression wasn’t a particularly happy one. “What, you too? Why are you pissed off now?”

“Would you actually do that?” While his expression had looked like one of annoyance, Sjin’s voice just sounded more concerned than anything. Sips couldn’t really figure out what the fuck he’d said or done to cause that.

“What, get someone to perform an exorcism? Don’t worry about it, it’s not like I’d try to have you exorcised.”

“It isn’t even about me. I’m asking if you would actually do that to him.”

“Probably not, unless I actually had to, but what does it even matter? It probably wouldn’t even work, and the guy’s an asshole. Besides, I seem to recall you threatening the same thing to that Ridge fucker.”

“Yeah, the guy who tried to kill you. Not some harmless dick who just wanted to make pancakes and is scared to see his friends. Assuming exorcisms even work, do we know what the hell one would actually do? No, and I can’t imagine it’s very pleasant.”

“Okay, I’m not gonna hire a god damn priest, happy? I wasn’t actually planning on it anyway, I just wanted to scare him into doing something to help.”

His reassurances did seem to be helping a bit, although Sjin still didn’t seem all that pleased with him right then.

“I just really want him out of here. I feel like a babysitter and that isn’t my friggen’ job. Is being able to come home to an empty apartment really that much to ask for?” Sips realized what he had just said about a second too late as he saw a rather hurt look cross Sjin’s face. “Oh, god dammit Sjin, I didn’t mean-” ...And now Sjin had vanished too. This was just fucking fantastic.

~~~

The apartment seemed almost stiflingly quiet with Sips’ new little entourage completely ignoring him. He could have cared less that Smith was ignoring him, of course, even if he was slightly concerned as to where he had actually gone. He didn’t trust him, and in that regard, he did kind of prefer when he could actually see him. It was Sjin’s avoidance of him that was getting to him, a fact that he was still trying not to actually admit, because he certainly hadn’t utterly failed in his plans to not get attached or anything like that. No sir. He definitely wasn’t sulking and ruminating on how he’d not even been able to clarify his meaning either, and no way did he pick up the phone before the first ring even finished when Nilesy called because he was hopeful for a distraction. Nope. Just... nope.

“Yeah, what is it Nilesy?”

“One of them agreed to meet with you there. Ross. Tall, hairy one I think? First time only one of them has agreed. I dunno if that’s a good sign or a terrible one, really, but… it’s a difference, isn’t it? How soon can you meet me there?”

“You head in now, I’ll get there as soon as I can get drippy guy to go along with it.” He hung up without another word, before getting up from where he had been sulking on the couch. “Hey, ghosts! Get both of your ghostly asses in here!”

Unsurprisingly, this didn’t really work. After a few seconds, Sjin did appear beside him, looking a bit cross, but Smith was nowhere to be found. “What do you want?” Oh yeah, Sjin was definitely still cross.

“Oh, sorry I interrupted your enthralling plans of… what were you doing, watching paint dry in that apartment they’re renovating?” He chuckled at his own joke, at which Sjin just rolled his eyes. “Smith’s friend’s agreed to see us, so we gotta go. Where is the fucker, do you know?” In answer to his question, Sjin sighed and poofed out of his line of sight momentarily, before reappearing, this time literally tugging a cursing Smith along by the ear.

“There, I got him for you, now can I go back to… what was it, watching paint dry?” Sjin wasn’t looking at him, and Sips was quickly realizing that he’d hurt his feelings more than he’d thought. It hadn’t been on purpose though, dammit. It wasn’t like he had to apologize for it, and if Sjin was waiting for an apology, he’d be waiting a damn long time.

“You mean you aren’t coming?” He questioned, trying not to sound like the idea bothered him too much. It wasn’t like Sjin had to come along on every outing like this.

“Wasn’t planning on it. You don’t exactly need me, now do you? Not like I can help you deal with the living.”

“Yeah, well… what if I need help dealing with the dead?” He waved an arm at Smith, who let out a barking laugh.

“What, you afraid to be alone with little old me, mate?”

“No, I’m fucking not.”

 “Great, then. Have fun.” Sjin piped up, then vanished once again. Sips cursed, mentally. He wasn’t about to do it out loud with that snide little shit Smith watching.

“I take it you two had a little lover’s tiff, eh?”

“Shut the fuck up. Let’s just go and get this god damn thing over with.”

~~~

Within the hour, Sips found himself sitting at a table beside Nilesy, Mr. Far-More-Annoying-Than-Sjin floating behind him with a rather sullen expression. His glee at teasing Sips had faded as they got closer to the reality of confronting his friend, and it was plain that he would have preferred to be just about anywhere else right then. They only had to wait a few minutes before the door opened and a guard let in one of the craziest looking motherfuckers that Sips had ever laid eyes on.

“What are you, fucking wolfman Abe Lincoln?” He found himself questioning just as the guards exited the room to wait outside. It was plain that this Ross fellow had not been expecting a greeting quite like that, if his sudden burst of surprised laughter was any indication.

“Who the shit are you? You’re obviously not a lawyer.”

“Hey, I could be a lawyer if I damn well wanted to be.” Sips replied, just a little bit offended by  how Nilesy had nodded in agreement with Ross’ pronouncement. “It doesn’t matter. Nilesy here works for me. I uh… heard about your case. Some fucked up shit, but it didn’t really sound like you guys were guilty, ya know? Figure I might as well look into it, see if I can’t do my good samaritan thing for the year.” The amused expression immediately fled from Ross’ face, and he looked more and more pissed off as Sips spoke. He was starting to regret his choice of words.

“Yeah, we’re bloody innocent, but we’re also not a fucking charity case. So if you’d kindly do me a favor and piss off?”

“Uh, no can do my friend. It may have started out that way, but now I’m fuckin’ invested. I legitimately wanna see you and your buddy get out of here.”

This did very little to remove the annoyed look from Ross’ face. He leaned back in his seat and made a show of miming a zipper over his mouth before looking up at the ceiling in an obvious signal that he was done talking. Smith, who had been silently levitating in the background this entire time, finally spoke up.

“Piss him off, but do it in a way that makes him want to talk. He’s a stubborn bastard, if you make it sound like it’s his idea, he won’t stay clammed up.”

Sips didn’t actually acknowledge this verbally; he didn’t want to look like a nutcase when he was trying to get through to the guy. He silently thanked him for being helpful for once, and did his best to take that advice.

“Fine, don’t talk to me. It’s a dumbass fucking move on your part, though. I’d think someone who was innocent would want to get out of prison, but I guess you’re either guilty or too fuckin’ stupid to see a good opportunity when you see one.” To Sips’ surprise, this actually worked. Ross flicked his gaze down from the ceiling to look right at him, his eyes narrowed.

“We aren’t guilty, dammit. Why would we kill our best fucking mate? He offed himself, we happened to be nearby when it happened. That’s fucking it, there’s no more to it.”

For the first time since Ross had spoken, Nilesy piped up to interject. “I know you’ve said you were innocent from the beginning, but it just doesn’t add up. I’ve read the reports, there were signs of struggle, the body-”

“I said we’re fucking innocent! I don’t care what the god damn reports say, the bastard fucking did himself in.”

“Evidence doesn’t show that, but if it’s true, why can’t you just tell us what happened?” Nilesy questioned, keeping surprisingly cool despite the rather explosive volume of Ross’ little rant. “Your statements so far have been… well they’ve been fuckin’ sparse, haven’t they? With more information we might actually be able to defend you. You two sort of dug your own graves on this one.”

Ross just stared at him for a time, looking calculating, before he leaned in to rest his elbows on the table between them, flicking his eyes back and forth between Nilesy and Sips.

“You want a more thorough statement? Fine, you’ll get a more thorough fucking statement.”

~~~

_The night so far hadn’t exactly been the loud, crazy lad’s night out that Smith had been waxing poetic about. They’d been to exactly two pubs so far, and the combo of sheer amount of booze and the pills that he had been popping like candy since they had started meant that Smith was already looking about ready to fall asleep right there at the booth they had claimed, with his chin rested on his hand on the table, and his eyes frequently opening and closing once again._

_Most of Ross wanted to just let him. He’d had a lot, sure, but it certainly wasn’t enough to kill him. Not yet, at least. If he passed out now, there was nothing to stop Ross and Trott from just dragging Smith back to their flat to sleep it off. There had been promises made, though, and if he were honest, a little part of Ross didn’t want to watch his best mate slowly die any more than Smith wanted to experience it. Maybe this actually was better._

_One more moment of indecision passed before he reached out a hand to shake his friend awake. Before he could reach him, Trott’s hand shot out and closed around his wrist. He looked up at his other friend, who’s brow was furrowed, and who was obviously feeling just as conflicted as he was._

_“You really going to wake him up? Can’t we just-”_

_“Do you realize how fuckin’ pissed he’ll be when he wakes up if we drag him home?”_

_“I don’t fucking care how pissed he’ll be, he’ll be alive, won’t he?”_

_“Yeah, for another couple odd months, and then we’re in the same fucking boat as we are now, except none of us’ll have any choice in the matter.”_

_Trott bit his lip and turned to look at the man beside him, who was now fully out, and actually snoring slightly. “I think I’d rather not have any choice. And this was such a fucking sudden decision, Ross, he can’t have actually thought it through.”_

_“He didn’t sound like it was a last minute thing, Trott. He was dead sober and that speech about not wanting some slow, shitty death wasn’t spur of the moment. He’d at least thought a lot about what he was going to say. Besides, this is the last real fucking choice the bastard has. Do you want to take it away from him?”_

_There was silence between them for several long seconds before Trott let go of Ross’ wrist and gave a bit of a nod in permission. Ross paused, just momentarily, then closed his hand on Smith’s shoulder to give him a bit of a shake._

_Smith sat up with obvious reluctance before casting his bleary gaze on Ross, squinting a bit as if he was having a hard time seeing straight. Which, in fairness, he probably was. “Whassit?” He mumbled, giving an exaggerated yawn and sitting up straighter. “Whatchoo wan’ Ross?”_

_“What I want is to know what you two fuckers want to drink. I’m heading to the bar.”_

_“Just… just a whiskey, mate. Straight up.” Now that he had been awake for longer than a two seconds, his speech was decidedly more coherent, although his balance clearly wasn’t any better, as he wobbled while trying to sit up straight and threw an arm around Trott’s shoulders to steady himself. Trott said nothing about this, but gave Ross a pleading look as he got up to leave._

_“You just babysit him for two seconds, alright? I’ll be back before you know it.” With that, he abandoned Trott and his silent cry for help in order to head over to the bar._

_The bar had been crowded with customers, and it took Ross considerably longer than anticipated to get the drinks for the three of them. Still, it only took about ten, fifteen minutes. It wasn’t as though they could have gotten into too much trouble without him in that span of time._

_Or at least, that’s what he had thought until he made his way back to the booth to find Smith giving Trott an extremely thorough snog up against the wall. An act that Trott didn’t seem to find objectionable in the least, if the arms wrapped around the taller man’s neck were any indication._

~~~

“Wait, I fucking did what?!” Sips was pulled out of his attempt to listen to the story by the sound of the ghost behind him’s little outburst. He didn’t say anything in response, but he turned around under the guise of checking the wall clock in order to shoot him an annoyed look. He actually felt kind of bad the moment that he did. Smith actually looked downright crestfallen. “No, you don’t- oh, fuck, you know, I knew damn well he fancied me, but I didn’t want to- I mean at first it was just never the right time, and then I got sick and- fuck.” His final word was punctuated by his sudden disappearance. Well, at least he’d done his job and helped get the fucker talking before he scrammed.

Sips let out a sigh and turned back to Ross, who was staring at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Sorry, thought I heard something. Don’t let me stop ya, keep going.” Rolling his eyes slightly, Ross shook his head.

“You know what, mate? I’m gonna have to say no on that one. That’s most of what I know, anyway. After that pub, we had the bright idea to sneak into some big fuck off mansion’s pool, Smith passed out, Trott and I panicked and I went to call emergency services. Trott followed a little later, we came back and he was in the pool. If you want more details you’re gonna have to coax them out of ol’ Trottimus. Now if you’ll excuse me?” Without another word, he motioned for the guards outside the room to indicate he was ready to leave. “Be seeing you, boys.”

Now alone with Nilesy, Sips turned to look at him. “What do you think? That enough to work with?”

“That wouldn’t be enough for the most practiced of damn defense lawyers, Sips. We’re gonna need much fucking more than that.”

“Well then, work on getting us a talk with this Trott fucker, alright? I need some god damn sleep.”

~~~

Sips didn’t see either of his ghostly acquaintances for some time when he arrived home that night. It wasn’t until he got in bed to try to get some of that sleep he’d claimed he needed that Sjin materialised above the bed beside him. It had been creepy seeing him do that at first, but now it didn’t even begin to phase him.

“Smith’s kind of a mess. Showed up here near panic. Took me until a little bit ago to actually get what happened out of him.”

“I don’t even get what the big deal was. So he got kinda handsy with his friend, so what? Who hasn’t done that when they’ve had too much?”

“I’m sure plenty of people haven’t, but that’s not the point. The problem was there were real feelings involved, and he obviously knew he was dying. That’s some heavy stuff, my friend.”

“...Okay, yeah, that’s pretty heavy, I guess.” Sips mumbled with a sigh, before turning onto his side to get a better look at Sjin. He was acting like nothing was bothering him anymore, but Sips could tell from his tone that he was still a bit unhappy with him. So much for that determination not to apologize. “Sorry. For earlier, I mean. I didn’t mean it to sound like that, what I said, you know?”

Sjin turned his attention to Sips fully, lips quirked in a small frown. It was plain that he wasn’t sure as to whether or not he should believe this. “I understand. I really do. You never asked for a flatmate, and you just wound up with one thrust on you. I don’t blame you for wanting your own private space.”

“Yeah, I’d get that too, but I don’t. I don’t want you to leave.” When Sjin raised an eyebrow slightly, he sighed and carried on. “I don’t mean I want you to stay forever. I know you’re still here for a reason, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t move on or whatever it is you dead guys do. I just mean… well, I like having you around, and I’d like you to stick around for as long as you damn well want to.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. I don’t really plan to leave any time soon.” For the first time during this conversation, Sjin’s face finally split into a small grin, and Sips couldn’t help but follow suit. He wasn’t good at touchy feely type conversations, and he never had been. This conversation though, had him feeling oddly… giddy? He opted not to think too much about where that feeling was coming from.

“Good. I can’t go training a new household ghost.”

“What am I, your dog now? I think you’ll find that I’m more of a ferret. Weasely motherfucker, right here.”

“Well I was planning to just get you a crate for when I leave the house, but if you’re more of a ferret then a dog I guess it’ll have to be an all day cage instead.”

“Ah, fuck you, Sips.”

“You’d like to, I know, and I don’t blame you. I’d fuck me too.”

Sjin snorted, still grinning slightly. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Not maybe. Definitely.”

Sjin’s laughter was like music to Sips’ ears, cliche as that stupid phrase might have been. Certainly better than having his best ghost friend- or really, best friend full stop, if he was honest- pissed at him. Stubborn as he might have been, he figured that sometimes apologizing could be worth it.


	8. Chapter Eight

While Sips was certainly not stupid enough to think that Smith might behave just because of some emotional turmoil, he had been hopeful that he might at least stop giving him too much trouble for a while. To say that he was annoyed when he awoke the next morning to a potent burning smell was an understatement. He stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen, ready to give that obnoxious bastard one hell of a lecture, only to find that Smith wasn’t alone. Sjin was right there beside him, and the two of them were staring at the stove with rapt attention, seemingly choosing not to acknowledge the smoke billowing out of the pan currently atop the burner.

“What the fuck are you two even doing?” Sips questioned the moment he got past the initial surprise that Sjin was actually encouraging something that would probably end in, at the very least, massive fire damage to the kitchen. Neither ghost reacted very strongly to this interjection. Smith just continued to stare at the pan as if willing it to move with every fibre of his being (which, truth be told, was likely exactly what he was doing), while Sjin just glanced over his shoulder with a shrug.

“Making pancakes.”

“That isn’t pancakes. That’s fucking charcoal.

“Baby steps, Sipsy. You know he didn’t even spill the batter when he was pouring it in this time? Now that’s what I call progress.”

Sips opened his mouth to respond, either to say that this was hardly what he considered progress, or to question what the hell had compelled Sjin to call him Sipsy. Before he could even decide which point deserved his attention first, however, he was interrupted by a loud clang as the still smoking pan went flying across the room to leave a rather pronounced dent in his wall.

“Did you fucking see that, mate? I could’ve taken someone’s head off with that! And you said I couldn’t even lift the fuckin’ thing.”

“Sure, but flinging the pan across the room isn’t exactly flipping the pancake, is it? That’ll certainly come in handy if the flat is ever invaded by barbarians, but it won’t be part of making any sort of balanced breakfast.”

“Okay, first of all, if we’re ever invaded by barbarians, we’re going to make some catapults and shit.” Sips interrupted, chuckling slightly despite himself. “Maybe buy a flail, train falcons to drop grenades in the middle of their camps… That kind of thing. Pots and pans are a last resort weapon. Second, I have to go to work, so don’t fucking burn the place down while I’m gone. I don’t want to get sued if the fire spreads to the other floors. Lawsuits are a boring pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, can’t make any promises.” Smith responded matter of factly, making a show of leaning up against the still lit burner and yawning. Sjin, at least, gave a bit of a nod.

“You may need to replace all of your cookware, but all fires will remain reasonably in control on my watch.”

Sips had a feeling that this was the closest thing to actual reassurance that he was going to get, so he decided to simply accept it with a nod and an eye roll before making his way out the front door.

~~~

A lunch hour spent with Nilesy was starting to become a routine for Sips, and he really wasn’t sure exactly how okay he was with that fact. There had been a time, not too long ago at all, that his employees had mostly just feared him. Now Nilesy was barging into his office at his own whim, not showing an ounce of fear of the big scary boss man, and that lack of fear was bound to spread throughout Sipsco.

It took Sips a bit longer than it really should have to realize that Nilesy was staring at him with a rather cross expression on his face. He had very obviously noticed that Sips had been tuning him out for the last fifteen odd minutes.

“Did you hear a thing I just said or did it all just go in one ear and right out the other?

“...Something about Colonel Sanders?”

“I- what? No. That’s not even… Look, Sips, what I was trying to say is we need to think of a fucking alternative to this ‘get two convicted murderers out of prison’ plan, because Trott still won’t talk, and even if he changes his mind, what are the chances we’ll learn anything that could actually help them?” Nilesy paused, face set in a frown and looking quite unsure about whether he wanted to finish what he was saying or not. The former won out in the end. “I know you want to help this… ghost, but did it occur to you that maybe he’s a lost cause? There must be another way to get rid of him. You could actually contact a priest. If you don’t want to do that, there’s this fellow over at Strife Solutions... word on the street is he’s got some weird occult hobbies, he might know-”

“Forcing him away isn’t an option, Nilesy. Either we find a way to send him off peacefully, or I guess I’m just stuck with him.”

“Well that’s… big of you, but… It didn’t sound like you even particularly like him. Quite the opposite, actually. All due respect, sir, but why the fuck would you be willing to do that much for some asshole ghost?”

“I’m not as big an asshole as said ghost? It’s not like it’s his fault. Well I mean, it’s probably his fault that he’s an asshole, but the being dead and stuck here part. I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Worst case scenario maybe I can just dump him on Martyn.”

“...Who?” Nilesy questioned, and Sips realized that he’d actually said this last thought out loud.

“Just some hippy.”

Nilesy looked like he was going to ask for more clarification, but before he could, the office door opened and a scarlet haired ball of sunshine and rainbows peeked her head inside. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” Zoey questioned even as she let herself right on in, shutting the door behind her.

“Yeah, actually, but you’re clearly a woman on a mission here, so…” Sips waved a hand in a gesture for her to carry on. He had a feeling she would have said her piece regardless of if he gave permission.

“Right, so. Office happy hour tonight. Pub quiz. You’re both in.”

“...Are we now?” Nilesy questioned for the both of them before Sips could, although he felt the need to add his own two cents as well.

“Since when do I pay you to organize pub trivia events?”

“Well, mostly you pay me so you don’t have to deal with people, but you also pay me to take care of the other things you can’t be bothered with, and sometimes that includes your mental health. You’ve both been holed up in here every break for days. There’s obviously something going on I’m not privy to, and I don’t need to know what that is, but what I do know is that a little bit of fun will only do you good.” Sips would have had no issue whatsoever with just saying no to this and refusing to go along with Zoey’s plans, had she not busted out one final attempt at convincing him. “I’d really appreciate it if you came, boss… to be honest, I mostly just want to officially introduce all of my friends to my girlfriend.”

It was honestly hard to tell if Zoey was aware that she was rather expertly manipulating Sips into agreeing. The end result of that whole hullabaloo with Rythian meant that he was already kind of personally invested in this relationship, even if he’d yet to meet the girl, and on top of that, Zoey so rarely flat out asked him to do anything for her sake.

“Ugh… I guess I can come for like ten minutes, but that’s it, alright? I don’t have all fucking night. Stuff you’re not privy to going on, remember? Lots of stuff!”

“Actually, we’ve really not got much-” Sips gave Nilesy a warning look, and the skinny little idiot shut his mouth abruptly.

Zoey obviously wasn’t blind to this exchange, but judging by her amused chuckle in response, she knew better than to take any of it personally. She simply beamed and swept Sips up in a quick hug before he could protest it. “You’ll come too, won’t you Nilesy?”

Sips couldn’t help but snicker slightly as Zoey turned those doe eyes on Nilesy instead of him. No one could resist that, and Nilesy proved he was no exception with a mumbled, “Yeah, alright, I will.”

“Oh my gosh, this is going to be brilliant! You know, I even managed to convince R&D that it’s worth leaving the lab!” After grabbing Nilesy in an enthusiastic hug, Zoey was out of the room once again, just as suddenly as she had arrived. Nilesy turned to look at Sips, a rather amused expression on his face.

“...What?”

“I can’t wait to see you of all people interacting with the rest of staff on a personal level.”

“Hey, I interact with them plenty. I went to that staff picnic, didn’t I?”

“...Do you not remember how that picnic actually ended?”

“...Nilesy, get out of my office.”

“I’m just sayin’, you might want to give emergency services a warning to be on standby this time.”

“If you’re not out of my office in ten seconds, you’re fired.”

Nilesy gave him a look that clearly said ‘yeah, right, like you actually would’, but got up and headed for the door nonetheless. He hesitated in the doorway just long enough to mumble, “At least try to avoid drinking with R&D again, okay?” before darting out the door.

Sips glared after him, mostly annoyed because Nilesy had made a halfway decent point. This was not going to be a repeat of the picnic incident, however. Hell, he had no intentions of staying more than ten or twenty minutes anyway. One beer and he’d be on his way.

~~~

Sips could not for the life of him figure out how this had happened. Sure, Fiona had turned out to be a pretty damn cool lady, with the kind of calm sarcasm that perfectly balanced Zoey’s relentless optimism, and yeah, maybe he’d been having a good time talking to them and agreed to a second beer. This did not explain how he had found himself slumped at a booth, his seventh shot of whiskey in front of him, listening as the somewhat dopey head of his research and development department rambled on to him about soil.

“We’ve developed these… these crystal thingies that absorb tons of water and then have this sort of slow release effect, you know?” Lalna was saying, although Sips had almost no idea what he was talking about. He’d zoned out and missed a good 90% of the context. Not that Lalna seemed to notice or care, as he kept right on talking without commenting on Sips’ blank expression. “Oi, drink up! I didn’t get you that shot for it to sit there!”

Sips stared somewhat blearily at the full little glass in front of him. How did Lalna do it? He’d been matching Sips drink for drink, and showed no signs of slowing down, or even of being particularly drunk. Sure, Lalna was quite a bit taller than him, and had a very sturdy build, but there was no reason that Sips should have come off as quite so large a lightweight in comparison.

Just before he would have bitten the bullet and just downed the thing, Sips was rescued by the arrival of Fiona, who plopped herself down beside him at the booth and helped herself to the shot before turning to look at him. “Listen,” she began, and her words were slightly slurred. Sips was relieved to know that it wasn’t just him that had imbibed a bit more than they should have, at least. “Listen, I have this friend you’ve got to meet. She’s great, you’ll adore her.” She paused, brow furrowed, before continuing. “Actually you may dislike her to an extraordinary degree. Could go either way, I think. Worth giving it a go, though, you know?”

“...Are you trying to set me up with this lady I may hate?”

“Hate is a bit strong of a word, don’t you think? No, though. I mean, she’s single so far as I know. If you’re looking-”

“Yeah, no, not looking at all.” Sips wasn’t entirely sure why he’d felt the need to cut her off so insistently, and he had no intentions of trying to explain himself in response to her questioning expression. He cleared his throat slightly and attempted to backtrack the conversation. “Why do I need to meet this girl then, huh?”

Fiona opened her mouth to respond, before seeming to remember Lalna’s presence. The scientist was leaned casually back in his seat, listening to their conversation with a curious expression. Fiona flashed him a grin and dug into her pocket, eventually fishing out a wad of bills and shoving them across the table at him. “Another round? My treat if you actually do the work to go get it.”

Lalna gave a matching grin right back as he took the money and hopped to his feet, heading in the direction of the bar. With him out of the way, Fiona turned her attention back to Sips.

“Well… Zoey’s told me some things. I won’t tell anyone else and neither will she, don’t worry. It’s just… well, this friend of mine, she’s like you. She can do what you can do. I figure people like that don’t come around so often, you two should get in touch. Start some sort of medium support group.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Sips lied, and if the amused expression on Fiona’s face was any indication, it had been a pretty damn blatant one. “Look, I already have to deal with ghosts every damn day. I have enough on my plate without starting a club.”

“Up to you, but I still think you should consider giving her a call.” Fiona reached back into the pocket she’d pulled her money from, this time tugging out a business card, which she handed over as she stood up. “I’m off. Tell Lalna he can have my drink as well. I swear, he has the tolerance of a full grown elephant.”

As Fiona walked off, Sips took the moment to squint down at the business card she had handed him. “Madame Nano’s Potions and Prophecies? Oh, good, so she’s one of those horrible fucking frauds.”

“Why’s Fiona giving you that card? Looking for some kind of psychic assistance?” Lalna was asking before Sips even registered his return with three pints of beer. “Don’t suppose she’s coming back, is she?”

“Nah. She said help yourself to her drink.”

“Don’t mind if I do!” Lalna responded with a chuckle as he sat back down at the booth, pushing one of the pints over to Sips, who let out a sigh and picked it up to take a drink.

“She just thinks I’d get along with this lady, maybe. I think I’ll pass on that though.” Sips mumbled, taking one more look at the card and then simply tossing it away. Picking up his drink again, he downed it in a few large gulps, earning an appreciative whistle from Lalna.

“You want Fiona’s drink instead? You’re welcome to it.

“Gonna pass on that. Think it’s time for me to get out of here.” Sips got to his feet with a bit of a groan, trying to ignore the slight wave of dizziness that came with standing.

“Fair enough. You know, you should come out more often,boss. I’d forgotten what a laugh you can be.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

~~~

It was fortunate that the bar had been so close to the apartment building, because Sips certainly wasn’t in driving condition, and the walk back cleared his head a bit, even if it didn’t sober him up at all. The penthouse itself was surprisingly peaceful when he arrived there; not on fire or anything, as he’d half expected. The kitchen was kind of a mess, but the stove was off, at least.

“You were out late.” Sjin spoke up as he appeared beside Sips, a somewhat amused expression on his face. “And you’re fuckin’ plastered.”

“I’m not plastered, just a little drunk.”

“Well, we’ve made pancakes, if you’re hungry, Mr. Not-Plastered.”

“Shiiiit, really? You guys actually managed it?”

“They’re a little burned, but yeah.”

“Are you two gonna start making me breakfast every morning?”

Sjin raised an eyebrow slightly. “Sounds like you’re resigned to having two flatmates for a while.”

“Well, if we’re gonna be stuck with him, I’d like to at least get breakfast in bed out of it.”

Sjin chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I dunno if you actually want our cooking. Reckon it’d be fine when you’re hammered, but sober? Yikes.”

“Guess I’ll stick with toast and cereal then, huh?” Sips responded, laughing a bit, although he wasn’t entirely sure what he was even laughing about. Sjin fell silent for a moment, just looking at him, then piped up again.

“You need to sober up. I think you could do with some fresh air.” He headed toward the front door as he spoke, motioning for Sips to follow. “Come on, then. You’ve never been to the roof, have you?”

~~~

“It boggles the mind that you never bothered coming up here before.” Sjin was saying as Sips leaned on the railing, gazing down at the city below. Now that Sjin mentioned it, he couldn’t really figure that out either. Why had he never come up here? This was just one of so many things that he never bothered to do before the accident.

“There was a lot of shit that I didn’t do before I met you.” He commented in a matter-of-fact tone. He fell silent, staring down at the lights in the buildings below them, before eventually turning his attention back to Sjin. “You know, I really wish you weren’t dead.”

“You and me both, my friend.” Sjin responded, his tone one of quiet melancholy. After a moment, he spoke again, this time in a rather forced sounding cheery tone. “If I were alive, I wouldn’t be so sexy now, though. Well, I suppose I might be a silver fox, but…”

“Oh, definitely a silver fox. I can’t imagine you aging out of your good looks.”

“Oh ho ho! My good looks? You think I’m good looking?”

“Of course I fuckin’ do! Anyone with eyes would think so.”

Sjin gave an incredibly smug looking grin. “I think I like drunk Sips. You’re doing wonders for my ego.” As he spoke, he moved to stand beside Sips, still grinning slightly. “You’re also being astoundingly honest! Tell me, with your inhibitions lowered, what do you really think of my beard?”

“It’s stupid as shit. It’s literally the hipster-y-est beard I’ve ever seen. You pull it off though, somehow. I don’t know how you fucking do that.”

“Ah yes, validation motherfuckers!” Both men cracked up a bit, on Sips’ end, partially just because he couldn’t believe he’d actually admitted that. When he finally stopped laughing, he just stared at Sjin, studying his face, and eventually letting out a heavy sigh, looking back out over the city.

“Sometimes I kinda wish I could kiss you.” He made a point of refusing to look at Sjin. Even a bit on the intoxicated side, getting this emotional was hardly easy for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, Sips… I’ve always wished the same.”

Sips finally turned to look at Sjin, a frown on his face. After a long pause, he leaned in to press his lips against the spot where Sjin’s should have been.

He’d been hoping that maybe there would be some sort of miracle, and he would actually find himself kissing Sjin. It didn’t quite work out that way, though. His lips met with nothing but cold air and a sudden feeling of pins and needles, and he pulled back, rubbing slightly at his mouth. “This fucking sucks.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Sjin responded, a flustered sounding tone breaking through what was probably a very strongly enforced air of calm. “I’m sorry. I wish there was anything I could do to change things, but-”

“Oh come on, try to make out again, that was fuckin’ hilarious!” Smith’s voice suddenly piped up. Sips turned to see the unwanted ghost levitating in the air next to them, a highly amused expression on his face. Sips let out a groan.

“Oh, just fuck off Smith!” He yelped, while Sjin moved over and shoved at Smith’s back in an effort to encourage him away. The still dripping ghost just let out a laugh that was really just a full on cackle. Sips watched as Sjin got in a bit of a physical fight with him, obviously trying to drag him into the stairway.

Not for the first time, Sips found himself searching his brain for ways to get Smith’s friend to talk. If he was going to have ghosts ‘living’ in his apartment, one of them was not going to be such a fucking cockblock.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I sat down earlier and did an outline of the rest of the plot of this beast, and I’m pretty sure now it’s going to be 13 chapters. The end is in sight. I do not know how to feel. 
> 
> Also, back to warnings of suicide/discussion of suicide.

When Sips awoke the following morning, he was feeling many things. Hungover was certainly one of them, and probably the least pleasant. Annoyed was another, this one aimed mostly at the painful dinging of his phone’s text tone for waking him up in the first place. Mostly, though, he was feeling a whole mess of ‘wait what the fuck happened last night?!’

He sat up abruptly, an act that he instantly regretted after it caused his head to throb painfully, and glanced down to see that he had fallen asleep in his work clothes. Not ideal, but better than some of the alternatives, i.e. his birthday suit. He’d also made it into his bed, so he had that going for him.

“You might want to check your phone, it’s been going off for the last half hour.” Sjin’s voice piped up from beside him, and Sips was glad he had gotten so used to this kind of thing, because he didn’t need any jump scares with this kind of headache. He turned his attention to the ghost, who was watching him with an amused expression. “Y’know, when you drink, you sleep like the dead.” The statement itself wasn’t particularly funny, but then Sjin had to go and laugh at his own terrible joke, and Sips found himself laughing too. Which also hurt his head a bit.

“You’re dumb as shit, you know that?” He questioned as he picked up his phone to scroll through a slew of texts from Nilesy in an attempt at finding one that wasn’t some variant ‘hello?!’ or ‘did you die of alcohol poisoning?!’

“Hey, you were singing a rather different tune last night, mister.” Sjin retorted, his tone turning just a little bit suggestive. Sips turned his attention from the phone back to Sjin, and swallowed hard when he found that he had moved in closer, so their faces were only about an inch apart, tops. “What do you say? Fancy a round two?”

“Uh…” Normally Sips was good at remaining unfazed when it came to the shit that Sjin said on a daily basis. Right this second though, with what he did remember of last night and an empty haze for the rest of it, he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. Fortunately, he was saved by Sjin backing off slightly, giving a laugh as he did so.

“Fuckin’ hell, Sips, nothing happened. I would have gladly let you have your way with me, but, you know-” As Sjin was speaking, he repeatedly poked a finger straight into Sips’ chest. “Not all here, physically, remember?”

“Jesus, would you stop that? It feels weird as shit.” Sips mumbled, attempting to wave away Sjin’s hand as he spoke. The chills that radiated from the spot with each poke from Sjin really wasn’t helping with the overall crummy hangover feeling. Sjin made a point of poking him one more time, then did as requested, pulling his hand back.

“So what does the Nilesinator want?”

“I don’t know, shut up and let me read.” Sips found himself glad for once that no one else could see or hear Sjin. If Nilesy ever heard someone calling him something like that, he’d embrace the shit out of the nickname. After a fair amount of scrolling, Sips finally made it to the first text of the bunch and read through it, letting out a heavy sigh as he did so. “Of fucking course it’d be today. Guess that Scrott guy is finally-”

“What’s all this about Trottimus now?” Sips found himself rather suddenly interrupted as Smith coalesced into being beside the bed, a badly hidden look of concern on his face.

“He wants to talk to me and Nilesy is what. Lemme guess, you don’t want to tag along?”

“Er… yeah, gonna pass on that one, mate.”

Sips momentarily considered calling him out as a chicken, but decided against it. He wasn’t soft enough to admit it, but he could kind of see why going along would be difficult for Smith, and he was too hungover to argue anyway. He got out of bed and shuffled through his dresser to find a fresh shirt, at least. He couldn’t be assed to shower any more than he could be to argue. “Whatever floats your boat, buddy. Sjin, we should probably get out of here like, ten minutes ago.” When an answer didn’t come immediately, he turned to look at Sjin, who was biting his lip slightly. “...You’re not coming either.” It wasn’t a question, so he didn’t bother to phrase it as one. Sjin shrugged a bit and jerked his head in Smith’s direction.

“Someone should make sure Sir Sparky doesn’t burn the place down, right?” It was obvious from his tone that he was more worried for his fellow ghost than what said ghost might do, but Sips chose not to question it.

“Great. Solo mission with the Nilesinator. Exactly what I fucking wanted out of today.”

And it seemed that stupid nickname was already catching. Fucking wonderful.

~~~

Unlike Ross, the man that Sips soon found himself sitting across from wasn’t in the least bit intimidating. Quite the opposite really; Trott appeared to be absolutely harmless. Kind of a pleasant surprise, especially considering Hairy Guy was nowhere to be found.

“Your wolfman buddy isn’t joining us today?” He questioned, prompting a surprisingly deep chuckle from the rather squat fellow.

“Nah, he doesn’t actually know I’m here. Half the inmates have some horrid death flu, he’s been a barely coherent wreck since yesterday. It’s the first time I’ve actually been able to schedule a meeting without him knowing.”

Sips shot a look at Nilesy, who looked just as intrigued by this pronouncement as he was. It had sounded like the two of them consistently put up a united front since they’d been inside, so hearing now that Trott was purposefully scheduling this so Ross didn’t know? Yeah, suddenly Sips was legitimately interested in what the guy had to say.

“Why didn’t you want him to know, if you don’t mind me asking?” Nilesy asked politely, to which Trott responded with an eye roll.

“You fuckin’ stupid, mate? I’d think it’d be a bit obvious that he does all the talking when we’re both in here.”

Sips watched as Nilesy leaned across the table a bit, voice lowering. “Are you saying he’s threatened you?”

Trott stared in silence at Nilesy for about two seconds before bursting into a fresh wave of laughter. “Oh, he threatens me all the fucking time, he’s an asshole, haven’t you noticed? No, it’s got nothing to do with that. Now he’s going to be angry as fuck at me for talking to you boys, but believe it or not, he’s just trying to protect me. He’s got fuckin’ rocks for brains, he’s convinced silence is the best option here.”

“But you don’t think so?” Sips was mildly impressed with Nilesy. For all the laughter his every action seemed to receive from these fuckers, he wasn’t backing down or losing confidence at all.

“No, I don’t. What’s silence gonna get us? Absolutely fucking nothing. At least talking might get Ross out.”

“...If it won’t get you out, what good is this doing you?” Sips found himself asking, even though he had really planned to be a silent observer for this, given the raging headache he still had. He really couldn’t even begin to figure out the dynamic these three shared, although he didn’t suppose it actually matters.

“Hey, Ross is a stupid asshole, but he’s still my best mate. Guess I’m trying to protect him too.”

“Right, well, if you’re positive, we’re all ears here.” Nilesy commented, still looking a little bit unsure about the fact that it seemed as though they were about to receive a full on confession. “We heard some from your friend, but her stopped at, er-”

“He finished his part of the story with you and dead guy playing some tonsil hockey at the bar.” Sips finished for him, sensing Nilesy needed a rescue there. From Nilesy’s expression, said rescue wasn’t entirely appreciated. Trott, for his part, raised an eyebrow slightly, then shrugged.

“I’d probably have called it an overly enthusiastic tonguing myself, but tonsil hockey? Sure, fair enough.” He cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling, clearly a bit less comfortable with where the conversation had immediately gone than his casual demeanor would have implied. “Right, so that... happened. Then Ross decided we should probably not be in public if Smith was starting to get handsy, so we left the pub and started heading back to the flat. There’s this massive fuckin’ estate just off of our route home, we always had a laugh about breaking in to check out the pool one day. Smith was off his head, but he was sober enough to decide we should go swimming and scale the fucking fence before we could stop him, so we ended up having to go after him…”

~~~

_Trott wasn’t sure what he had expected to find when he landed on the other side of the fence gate and rushed through the bushes that separated the driveway from the pool they had so frequently looked in on. He wasn’t entirely prepared for the sight of Smith still in his full on ‘lad’s night’ regalia, happily treading water in the deep end of the pool. Despite his inner turmoil about this evenings plans, despite all of the negative things he might have been feeling, Trott couldn’t help but crack up as he walked over to stand by the edge._

_“Get out of there you fucking madman! These people are gonna call the cops. Not to mention the chlorine’s gonna ruin that suit, you’ll be livid when you get the dry cleaning bill.”_

_“Dry cleaning bill? Bollocks! There’s only tonight, Trottimus! And tonight, I wanna have a fucking swim with you and that fucker.” He pointed over Trott’s shoulder, presumably at Ross, who had caught up and made his way over to stand next to Trott._

_“Could we consider moving on, please? This may be the worst idea yet in a night of very bad ideas.” He hissed through gritted teeth, giving Trott a pleading look. Trott might have listened, but then he made the mistake of looking at Smith, who was simply beaming at him with that inappropriately angelic smile of his, and Ross immediately lost the battle._

_“It IS unseasonably hot tonight, Ross, you’ve got to admit.” He murmured conversationally as he tugged off his shirt, taking pride in the fact that he’d at least had the sense to partially disrobe rather than jumping in fully clothed._

_“Really? Is this really happening right now?” Ross heaved a defeated sigh as Trott answered him quite simply by jumping into the water. “Fucking-” He spat out water as Smith sent an impressively far reaching splash his way. “...You two are un-fucking-believable.” Clearly giving up on retaining his higher ground, he shrugged off his jacket and jumped into the water as well, creating a sizeable splash in all directions._

_It soon became clear that they had obviously been incredibly lucky, in that the owners of the property clearly weren’t home. With all the noise they made in the ensuing splash fight after Ross jumped in, there was no way the owners wouldn’t have heard them if they were around. As it was, however, they were left alone long enough to find themselves boring of said splash fight, eventually settling into a companionable silence while floating on their backs, looking up at the rather cloudy sky._

_“Kinda wish there were more stars out. Still, not bad as last nights go.” Smith piped up, sounding rather uncharacteristically somber. Trott couldn’t blame him for that, of course, but given his balls to the wall ‘let’s go have crazy fun’ attitude throughout the earlier part of the night, he hadn’t been expecting it._

_Through all of this, Ross had been the one that always seemed to find words, but now it seemed that it was his turn to be at a loss for them. Trott thought to himself for a while, trying to decide if he should say what he really wanted to say, and then deciding to go for it._

_“It doesn’t have to be. It’s not too late, you know? I know you’ve not finished off those pills, we could just… stop, go home. Sleep it off. Have another go at a last hurrah some other night. Right?”_

_At first he thought he’d upset Smith by saying this, when he didn’t get a reply immediately. It was Ross who noticed that something was off first, as he let out a sudden, “Jesus Trott!”, prompting Trott to bolt upright, nearly inhaling water in the sudden movement in time to see Ross diving underwater after their friend, who had obviously stopped paddling to help support himself in floating._

_Trott grabbed on to Smith to help Ross, and together they dragged him up onto the deck of the pool, where a clap on the back from Ross had him gagging up pool water, and subsequently, what was left of the pills and booze in his stomach. Smith rolled onto his back away from where he’d been sick, still coughing, while Ross made a beeline for his jacket, pulling out his mobile._

_“This can’t fucking continue. This is fucking crazy. It’s gone too far, I’m calling emergency services.” He struggled with the phone momentarily, then let out a few curses. “Can’t get a single god damn bar, Trott, fucking watch him, I need to get a signal.” Ross was still grumbling about this even as he strode purposefully out of sight._

_Trott let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding and sat down hard next to Smith, his head in his hands._

_“Trott.” Smith's voice croaked as he spoke, and Trott heard him clear his throat before speaking again more clearly. “Trotty, please.”_

_Trott couldn’t bring himself to answer, and after a few seconds of silence, he felt Smith’s arm wrap around his waist, while Smith's lips were soon pressed against the side of his neck. He might have told him to fuck off, that now wasn’t the time, but he knew full well that this wasn’t a come on, so instead he let himself lean into the larger body now wrapped around his, letting his hands fall from his face._

_“I shouldn’t have asked the two of you to do this with me. That was fucking unfair of me to expect. Just didn’ wanna be alone.”_

_“Are you mental? We wouldn’t have let you go alone. Still won’t, in fact. When it does happen, we’ll-”_

_“Trott, I can’t. I can’t keep going. I can’t get sicker, I can’t just- Tonight was fun, up until now. I just want tonight to be it.”_

_“Smith, come on. We’ll go home, you’ll feel better in the morning, and we’ll deal with things as they come, alright?”_

_Smith pulled back and gripped Trott’s chin in one hand, forcibly turning him to look at him. “Are you fucking deaf Trottimus? I said no, alright?”_

_Trott swallowed the growing lump in his throat and willed himself not to actually break down. “You’ve not even got enough pills left to-”_

_“Pills were never the only option.” As if to clarify the point, Smith gestured at the pool they were currently sitting beside. After a moment of silence, Trott let out a shaky sigh and slid on the wet stone so that his legs hung over the edge of the pool._

_“Right then. We doing this?” Trott realized his wording was a bit poorly thought out when Smith looked at him in horror. “I’m not going to off myself. You just said you didn’t want to be alone, so I’m not going to let you be alone.”_

_“You don’t have to stay with me, mate.” Smith murmured, even as the two of them slipped back into the pool, hand in hand._

_“Yeah, well, try to fucking stop me you great ugly bastard.” Trott cut off Smith's subsequent laugh by pulling him in for a kiss, one that lasted all of a second before he pulled away to instead just press his forehead against Smith’s. “Thought you might want one last snog, but then I remembered you’d just been sick. Should’ve brought a fucking toothbrush mate.”_

_“Thought that counts, I suppose.” Smith responded with a low chuckle._

_After a few seconds, he slipped under water, not bothering to take a breath first. This lasted less than a minute before survival instinct obviously kicked in and he burst up onto the surface again. “Fucking shit, I can’t do it. I have to do it, there isn’t-” He was actually crying when he turned to Trott with a breathless, “Help.”_

_Trott really, really didn’t want to do what he knew Smith was asking him to do, but after a moment of deliberation, he decided that he owed it to him. Reaching out, he gripped one of Smith's shoulders in each hand and pushed him down._

_There were some struggles, and a stream of bubbles as the air emptied from Smith's lungs, but by the time Ross got back with the announcement that an ambulance was on the way, both the bubbles and the struggling had stopped._

~~~

The silence in the room after Trott finished his statement was downright deafening. For some time no one spoke, before Sips decided it was necessary to break the ice.

“You know… looking at you I wouldn’t have thought you were capable of literally drowning someone with your bare hands.”

Trott gave a shrug, not looking at Sips or at Nilesy. “I tend to surprise people. Do you think my confession is grounds for Ross’ release? He honestly did nothing.”

Nilesy gave an awkward cough, having found himself just staring at Trott, mouth hanging open. “Well, it’s definitely reason enough for me to make a big stink about how it’s against his rights to keep him in there. With any luck I can have him out in a few days and we can talk about getting you another trial. The pair of you didn’t do yourselves any favors at all keeping this quiet, you know that? The law looks on assisted suicide a hell of a lot more favorably than manslaughter or outright murder.”

“You’re telling me, mate. I tried to convince Ross about that already.” He paused, then added, “Thank you, both of you. I have no idea who the fuck you are-” He nodded at Sips, then turned to Nilesy, “or why he convinced you to take up this case, but, for Ross too because he’s not gonna fucking say it, thank you.”

“What can I say? There was just something about this case that would not stop screaming that you needed help.” Sips chuckled at the joke that he was fairly certain went over everyone else’s heads.

~~~

Sips was surprised to find that for once, there was no burning smell when he returned to the flat after leaving the meeting with Trott. In fact, Smith and Sjin were hanging around the sitting room coffee table, not making a mess of anything except a pile of papers and pens.

Smith appeared to be, under Sjin’s coaching, manipulating one of the pens into writing out the alphabet. From the looks of things, it had been a long and painstaking process. Sips decided that he really didn’t care to ask.

“Your buddy Trott confessed.” He piped up, getting both ghosts’ attention, and causing the pen to clatter back down onto the table. “Says he held you under water until you drowned. This is the one you frenched, right? You know, you guys have a very unusual relationship.”

“You say ‘the one I frenched’ like I haven’t snogged both of them at one time or another.” Smith responded matter-of-factly. “Besides, you can’t even begin to talk about unusual relationships. You blatantly want to fuck a ghost.”

“...Touche.”

“Cheers for all the help, mate.” Smith murmured to Sjin before vanishing.

“What’s got a bee all up in his bonnet?” Sips questioned, mildly confused by the sudden departure.

“I reckon he’s got a lot on his mind, and I’m sure the little bombshell you just dropped about his mate didn’t help. Not that it wasn’t painfully obvious that one of them drowned him, but… you know, actual proof of it now.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

There was a pause, and then;

“So about you wanting to fuck a ghost…”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking, maybe we could do something about that particular desire.”

“...Weren’t you the one reminding me of how impossible that is this morning?”

“Well, yeah, but there’s nothing stopping me from talking dirty to you while you have a wank and I watch.”

Sips blinked a few times as he tried to process this. “You can be really creepy, you know that? And I don’t mean because you’re a ghost.”

Sjin snorted and leaned in closer. “Yeah, but you can’t deny you find it kinda hot.”

“The fact that I find it hot doesn’t make it any less creepy, you creepy fucker.”

Sjin laughed, and Sips found himself thinking about just how very, very screwed he was on the emotionally invested front.

~~~

A few days later found Sips leaning against a building in a strange part of town, trying to look incognito. He knew he felt a lot more out of place than he likely looked, given that the rest of the people passing by couldn’t see his somewhat eccentric looking pair of companions.

“Hey, there he is!” Smith piped up, pointing up the street a ways at Ross, who’d been let out earlier that day. A concentrated look crossed Smith’s face, and a bit of paper made its way toward Ross, as if on the wind, before smacking him full on in the face. He tugged it off his face and looked at it in confusion for a moment, before looking around wildly, his expression a strange combination of paranoia and wonder.

“The fuck did you write on the thing?” Sips questioned, suddenly curious? The ghost beside him laughed.

“Um… ‘You were in jail for my funeral you fucking dickhole’ … ‘Tell Trott when he gets out that I’m going to haunt both you fuckers til kingdom fucking come’... That sort of thing. Think I signed off with a ‘lots of love’ or some hugs and kisses.”

Now all three of them were laughing as they watched a clearly confused Ross pocket the note and speed up in his walk back to his flat.

“I’m going to miss that fucker.” Smith commented, and even as he spoke, a bright flash of light lit up the alley they were currently holding their little stakeout from, as a large door appeared on one of the alley’s brick walls. “...The fuck is that?”

“From what I can gather it uh… takes you to the great beyond, or whatever you want to call it.”

“From what you can gather?”

“I’m not a fuckin’ expert, I’ve only even seen one of them before, but that guy seemed pretty sure his door was a good thing.”

Smith didn’t seem nearly so sure about this as Rythian had been, but he took a few steps toward it, still eyeing it distrustfully. “I do have a good feeling about it, but… you sure it’s not some fuckin’ trap that’ll drag me to hell?”

“Like I said, Smith, no fucking idea.”

Smith paused, frowning, before letting out a breath and turning to look at them, that shit eating grin right back where it clearly belonged. “Guess there’s only one way to find out, eh? If it’s hell, here’s betting I’ll see you both there.” With that he opened the door, and after a blinding flash not unlike the one that had appeared with Rythian’s departure, he was gone.

The alley felt strangely empty without the door, or really, without Smith. As much as Sips had complained about his presence in his life, it was weird to have it gone so suddenly. A sudden chill went down his arm, and he turned to see that Sjin had placed a hand more or less ‘on’ his shoulder. A nice attempt at a gesture, even if it utterly failed to provide the physical comfort that it normally would have. His words, when he spoke, were a lot more comforting than the gesture.

“Time to head home, you reckon?”

“Yeah. Home sounds good.”

He’d never really thought of the penthouse as home, not in the truest sense of the word, but now it seemed like the only word to describe it.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems I lied about the 13 chapters thing, because this one was turning into a beast and has thus been cut in half. New estimate 14 chapters? We'll see how long that pronouncement lasts. xD

Sips was starting to feel like being woken out of nowhere by ghosts was becoming a trend, and it wasn’t one that he was particularly pleased about. Especially when this particular instance consisted of Martyn shoving a hand straight into his chest, causing him to jolt up with a start and shudder uncontrollably. To say that he was displeased when he did wake would be the understatement of the century.

“What the actual fuck?! Why would you fucking do that you god damn lunatic?!” It was fortunate for Martyn that he was incorporeal, as Sips picked up his alarm clock and threw it straight at his head. The clock, of course, just passed right through Martyn to hit the wall behind him ineffectively.

“I needed to wake you up. You’ve got to admit, it was effective.”

“Effective my ass! What the fuck are you doing here? How do you even know where I live you crazy motherfuck!?” Sips was starting to calm down a bit, at least no longer feeling like he was outright having a heart attack, but he was still both completely livid and absolutely perplexed about this situation.

“Followed you home that last time. You didn’t seem to notice. In answer to your first question, I need a favour, yeah?”

“Why the hell would I do you a favour after being ripped so horribly from a very pleasant sleep?”

“Because the favour isn’t for me anyway, it’s for a friend. Well, sort of friend. Never actually met her for obvious reasons, pretty sure she was actually born after I died, but she loves that bloody brilliant tree nearly as much as I do. Comes there a lot to think.”

“And you just watch her like the creepy fuck that you are?”

“Well, yeah, not like I’ve got much else on. It’s not like a sexual thing, though. I mean she’s quite pretty, but that isn’t the point. She’s one of the few good ones around. Runs a clinic for rehabbing injured raptors.” At Sips’ suddenly interested face, Martyn rolled his eyes. “As in birds of prey, fluff for brains. Anyroad, she came by the tree yesterday and seemed really upset about something, so I followed her back to work and there’s notices up about how the place is closing. It’s obviously not a personal decision of her’s, you’ve gotta help her out.”

Sips weighed his options. On one hand, agreeing would get Martyn off of his back, as well as giving him that lovely ‘good samaritan’ sunshiney feeling that he would never admit he enjoyed getting. On the other hand, it was Saturday, and he’d had a busy day planned of doing absolutely nothing but shoot the shit with Sjin. Who, speak of the devil, had apparently appeared some time during Martyn’s explanation, because his voice suddenly sounded cheerfully, “Of course we’ll help! Just point us to our destination and we’ll be off!” When Sips cast him a glare, he just responded with that obnoxiously charming grin of his, “We can’t say no to helping a fair damsel, Sips!”

Sips had a strong feeling that Sjin was well aware of the fact that his stupid grin could easily win him most arguments. It was just too hard to say no, and this was proving to be no exception to that rule. “Fine, we’ll go… save the birds, or whatever the hell this is about. Are you coming too, Martyn?”

“Nah, I’ve got things to do.”

“Like what? What could you possibly have to do that you can’t save for later? You have literally nothing but free time in your un-life.”

“If you must know, I’ve got a bulldozer to sabotage. Gotta get my Lorax on and all that.”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. I think I’m happier keeping it the dynamic duo anyway, right Sjin?”

“Right, fuck off Martyn.”

Martyn responded with a rather rude hand gesture before informing Sips of the address and vanishing.

\---

Sips really did not know how to feel when they arrived at the address that Martyn had given them, an old barn by the looks of things, and immediately ran straight into Nilesy.

“Nilesy what the fuck, are you fucking stalking me?!” Sips greeted pleasantly. To his credit, Nilesy appeared to be every bit as confused as Sips was by this coincidence.

“I was here first, I think I’m the one who should be asking that question!”

“Hey, I’m here on fucking ghost business, why would you ever need to visit a god damn bird rehab center?”

“Is a man not allowed to visit a friend when she’s had a trying day?”

“Since when do you have any friends?”

Nilesy rolled his eyes behind his glasses, and opened his mouth to retort, but the lovely blonde woman who came out of the barn at that moment beat him to the punch. “You’re a bit of a tit, aren’t you?” She asked mildly, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Yeah, I’d say that about describes me. Names Sips.” He held out a hand as he introduced himself and she shook it with her free hand. The other hand was a bit busy, what with the large owl currently perched upon it.

“Lomadia. Charmed, Sips the tit. You’re Nilesy’s boss, aren’t you?”

Sips had honestly been thinking that Nilesy was using the word ‘friend’ very loosely, but if he and this Lomadia woman had actually spoken enough for her to know that much, he supposed he had to concede that perhaps they really were friends.

“Yeah, that’s me. Little shit’s been a pain in my ass for years. And I guess he like, helped save my life or whatever, but mostly the pain in the ass thing.”

Sjin, who had been quietly listening like a polite ghost up until this point, had to interject with a flirtatious, “I could be a pain in your ass.” Sips snorted, resulting in a slightly raised eyebrow from Lomadia, who seemed to decide not to ask about it.

“Right, well, what can I do for you, anyway? If you can’t tell I’ve got my hands a bit full. Been calling up other centers in the area to see if they’ve got room for any of my birds.”

“Right, about that, actually. I’d uh, heard about this place before, but never found the time to come see it, which sucks because I, you know, fucking love birds and all. I heard through the grapevine that you’re closing. What the hell is that about?”

Nilesy was staring at him, presumably because he knew that this was a bold faced lie and wanted to know what was actually going on. Sjin went ahead and answered this unasked question for Sips by heading over and shoving a hand directly through Nilesy’s shoulder. Nilesy, in response, gave a visible shudder and looked around in confusion for a moment, before an expression of understanding dawned on his face. He gave Sips an almost imperceptible nod, then turned to Lomadia.

“I uh… might have texted him about it, actually. I know you didn’t want some sort of a pity party, but whatever else you might say about Sips, he’s fucking passionate about birds. Felt wrong not telling him when he might be able to do something, you know?”

Lomadia flicked her gaze back and forth between them, clearly knowing that something wasn’t quite right about their stories, but eventually gave a shrug and turned back toward the entrance. “Yeah, alright, I’ll tell you about it while I do my feeding rounds then, shall I?” She questioned as she headed into the somewhat darkened barn. Sips and Nilesy followed suit, while Sjin had seemingly vanished. Sips opted against calling attention to this; Sjin was a big boy, most of the time. He could handle himself just fine, and he’d be back.

“Weren’t you worried that one owl would fly away when you took it outside?” Sips questioned as he walked a bit faster to keep up with Lomadia, who was reaching into a satchel at her hip, only to pull out what appeared to be a dead mouse, which she tossed into a large chicken wire enclosure in front of her, into the waiting talons of a large owl, who promptly swallowed the thing whole.

“Who, Mr. Owl? Nah.” As she spoke, she held her arm up to a perch, and the owl on her hand hopped off onto it, although it kept its eyes fixed on her. “He sort of thinks I’m his mum. Can’t actually fly, anyway. He’s got a bum wing. Wound up here after getting knocked from his nest by a cat.” She paused momentarily, jerking a thumb in Nilesy’s direction. “His cat, actually. He shows up here positively hysterical, the little babby all wrapped up in a blanket… He was bawling his eyes out until I told him it was just the little fellow’s wing and a pretty bad shock.”

Sips didn’t bother trying to hold back a snigger as Nilesy awkwardly scratched at the back of his head, mumbling what Sips assumed was a load of defensive bullshit.

“Oh relax, Nilesy. It was sweet. Not a lot of people would’ve bothered to bring an injured owl in at all, let alone been that upset about it.” She reached over and patted him on the head in a marginally condescending manner, and Sips noticed with mild disgust that it was the same hand she was using to handle dead mice and rats. Not that Nilesy seemed to mind in the slightest, if the half smile that crossed his face at the attention was any indication. Sips gave a bit of a snort, causing Nilesy and Lomadia to look at him questioningly.

“What? Don’t let me interrupt your little moment.” He commented in a dry tone, grinning broadly. Lomadia rolled her eyes and went back to her feeding schedule, while Nilesy was glaring daggers at him. Rather than being intimidated, Sips just laughed and patted him on the shoulder as he passed to catch up with Lomadia. “So tell me, Lomadia. You seem to like this job; what’s making you close the place anyway?”

“Lack of funding.” She replied with a sigh, reaching up even as she spoke to Sips to adjust the tail of a rat that seemed to have gotten stuck in an owl’s throat. With the assistance, the owl managed to get it down quite easily, and Sips made a bit of a face, one which he tried to hide when Lomadia turned to look at him again. He was meant to be a bird lover, after all. “This place has been in my family for generations, ever since it was founded, but we’ve never actually legally owned it, and our benefactor recently decided to sell out to a larger company. They’ve told us funding is going to stop within the next quarter, so if I don’t want the animals completely screwed over, I have to start rehoming them now. It’s a real shame, some of these birds are totally unreleasable, Mr. Owl for instance. So this really should’ve been their home for life. Owls don’t always do well with change.”

Sips sighed, already mentally preparing himself to get out his checkbook. This new side job of his was proving to be a lot less lucrative than most side jobs. “Who’s this benefactor of yours? I’ll have a talk with them, worst case scenario, I’ll see if I can buy this place and fund it myself.” When Lomadia stared at him with wide eyes, he just shrugged. “What? Like I said, I’ve got a soft spot for birds.”

“Honeydew Inc. The founder had a soft spot for animals, same as you… apparently.” It was plain from her expression that she didn’t quite buy the bird lover routine, but Sips figured she wasn’t going to question anyone who might keep her project afloat. “Honeydew himself put my great grandmother in charge of the place, but now they’re apparently involved in some buyout with Strife Solutions.”

Sips had to laugh at the coincidences slotting into place right then. He’d known that Strife asshole for years, and the current CEO of Honeydew Inc for just as long. “I don’t think you need to worry. I’ll have a talk with the guy running Honeydew Inc, he’s an old college buddy of mine. If I can’t convince him to keep this place afloat, I’m positive I can at least convince him to sell it to me.”

Before Lomadia could respond, a load of pigeons in the rafters went into a frenzy, causing the owls in their various enclosures to panic, and for a moment, Sips wondered if they had somehow understood him. A glance upwards revealed the actual cause though, as Sjin was up in the rafters, looking slightly guilty.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle them!” He shouted down, and Sips rolled his eyes, glad that no one else could see the cause of the ruckus. Lomadia’s stress levels seemed to raise immediately, and she started rushing from cage to cage, making shushing noises.

“I’ve got to deal with this, but that sounds brilliant. If you’ll just see yourself out?” She questioned in a frazzled manner, and Sips opted not to blame her for her slight rudeness. He headed out, tailed by Nilesy and, after a moment, Sjin. Sips turned to stare at the latter as soon as they were safely out of Lomadia’s earshot.

“I don’t think giving her fuckin’ birds a heart attack was our goal here today, Sjin.” He commented dryly, at which Sjin gave a sheepish grin.

“Hey, it was an accident, like I said! How was I to know pigeons are that easy to spook?”

“Why the heck was it necessary for you to be in the rafters anyway?”

“Er, ghost friend again, right?” Nilesy interrupted before Sjin could explain himself, and Sips aimed a glare in the direction of his legal advisor instead.

“Yeah, ghost friend. Who invited you to this discussion?”

“I only wanted to know if you drag this friend of yours along everywhere you go, because it sort of seems like it.” He hesitated before looking away from Sips in the general direction of where Sjin was, presumably having followed Sips’ line of sight. “Listen, no offense to you, but it just doesn’t seem terribly healthy to me, being quite so codependant with someone who’s not even alive anymore.”

“What are you, my shrink now? Fuck off, Nilesy.” This suggestion from Nilesy pissed Sips off all the more because his point was actually sort of valid, not that he had any intentions of admitting that. “If you’ll excuse me, my codependant ghost buddy and I need to be going. C’mon, Sjin.”

Sjin did as Sips told, although it was plain from the displeased expression on his face that the point had struck him as valid just as it had Sips.

\---

“He had a point you know.” The drive back toward the apartment had been silent until Sjin spoke up a few minutes in. Sips really wished he hadn’t.

“No he didn’t. He has no god damn idea what he’s talking about and he shouldn’t go being all opinionated about crap he doesn’t even get.”

“I genuinely think he wasn’t trying to offend you.” Sjin was viewing this in a much fairer light than Sips, and that somehow annoyed him even more. “He just struck me as concerned. It’s obvious he thinks of you as a friend… of sorts.”

“Sjin, that fucker thinking he’s my friend is the last thing I need or want.” He responded with a laugh despite his annoyance. “I already see him every day at work, can you imagine if he started wanting to _hang out_. On _personal time_? I think I should nip any friendship ideas he might be having in the fucking bud.” Although Sjin chuckled at this too, the tone of his laugh wasn’t quite as genuine as it usually was, and Sips glanced over to where he was ‘seated’ in the passenger’s seat to see that he was staring out the window rather than looking at him. He turned, seemingly having felt Sips’ gaze, and maintained eye contact for a second or two before looking away again and sighing.

“Sips, look. God bloody knows I don’t think… whatever it is you and I have is a bad thing. Fuck, it’s about the only thing worth looking forward to on a daily basis in my whole damn afterlife, but that’s exactly what makes it a bit less than healthy. You’re my everything, and I don’t mean that in some creepy ‘I’m so fucking obsessed that nothing else matters’ way, I mean it literally. Before you, the closest thing I had to a social life was a television. For _decades_. You’re the only connection I have to the living breathing world that can actually connect back.” So much of their conversations consisted of silly banter that it struck Sips just how candid Sjin was actually being, and he still didn’t know quite how to feel about what he was hearing. Feeling like Sjin wasn’t quite done yet, he opted to stay quiet, wishing for about the millionth time that he could touch him; put an arm around him, even just a sappy friggen bit of hand holding. Eventually, Sjin did continue to speak.

“What I’m trying to say, I think, is just that if I had the choice, I’d want to do more with myself than just be your tagalong. I appreciate that you want me around as often as you do, but I wonder how much of that might be getting in the way of you forging relationships with people that aren’t dead. I can’t really have friends outside of you. You can have friends outside of me. Part of me might be slightly bitter about that, I’ll admit, but it isn’t your fault, and I don’t want you to think you have to always have me around.” He paused, then gave a slightly forced laugh. “I can always hang out with Martyn. Wouldn’t that just be a hum-dinger of a good time?”

There were a lot of things Sips could have said to this; that he was never a people person, that he had never actually wanted to be around anyone nearly as often as he wanted to be around Sjin… He could have even reassured him with the knowledge that his social life, if you could call the results of the whole ghost hunting bullshit that, was about a hundred times more active now than it had been at any time he could really remember. Instead, he just found himself asking, “Do you miss Smith?”

Sjin didn’t seem quite sure what to make of the question, and turned back to him again with a befuddled expression. “Uh… I dunno, really. He was a bit of a pain in the ass, but I reckon he was alright to have around sometimes… Why?”

“I mean, you literally just said you’d even consider hanging out with ol’ tree hugger at this point. At least Smith was funny sometimes.... Do you kinda wish we’d kept him around instead of solving his unfinished business crap?”

Sjin’s brow furrowed and he frowned thoughtfully, before speaking. “Nah, I don’t. That wouldn’t have been very fair to him, would it? He wasn’t hanging around here by choice. Moving on was what he needed.”

Sips nodded vaguely in agreement, before another thought struck him. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he had a feeling it was at least tangentially related to the topic at hand. “Why the fuck were you being such a weirdo at the owl place, anyway? Fucking around in the rafters and shit?”

Sjin leaned back to stare up at the ceiling. “I was just checking out the structure of the place. It reminded me a lot of the barn I was going to repurpose for parts of that farm house I was going to build.” His tone took on a quiet melancholy, much the same as it had the last time his old career in architecture came up. Sips hesitated, because the question he was about to ask had always been met with an obstinate refusal to even consider it, but in the end he opted to go ahead with it.

“Do you think that house has something to do with you still hanging around here?” He expected the question to be met with denials, but instead, he got a somewhat defeated sounding sigh.

“It might be. I dunno. It’s like… I took part in plenty of projects with my firm, but that was my pet project. It was totally mine. I wasn’t being paid to work on it, it’s just… what I did in my off time. I guess some people would regret not marrying or having children, but I guess you could say that was meant to be my baby.”

Sips swallowed a growing lump in his throat and stared at the road ahead of them, unsure if he could bring himself to look at Sjin right now. “Could we get it built? How would we go about doing that?”

“We’d need access to the right materials… It’s not as though I even have the plans anymore, I kept them at the office and god knows what’s happened to them by now. It really doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s not as though I’m unhappy here.”

“...Yeah, you say that, but-”

“But nothing, Mister. Unless we were planning on talking about your butt, in which case, carry right on my friend!” This joking shut down more than indicated that it was time for ‘serious time’ to be over, and Sips wasn’t about to complain.

He’d let it drop, for now.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Having a ghost buddy might have occasionally made things awkward, but Sips had long since realized that it also made a lot of things vastly more entertaining, and the business of waiting around for a scheduled meeting definitely fit into the latter category. For most of his life, hanging around someone’s office waiting to be seen in had been an exercise in boredom. Now it was just an exercise in trying not to laugh too obviously as Sjin floated behind the CEO of Honeydew Inc’s secretary, providing a running commentary of what she was currently looking at on her computer.

“Ooh, a brave choice right here! Clicking a link so plainly labeled not safe for work.” Sjin squinted a bit, moving forward to get a better look at the screen. When he did, his eyebrows practically flew up to his hairline. “Wow, I didn’t actually know it was physically possible to use that large a buttplug without causing some kind of permanent tissue damage.”

Sips snorted before he could stop himself, and the secretary glanced up, looking for all the world like she was cross with him for interrupting her important secretarial duties. “Is everything quite alright, sir?”

Behind her, Sjin made a bit of a tutting noise. “Man, I think you spooked her, she closed that window fucking immediately. Guess she’s not quite as unflappable as I was giving her credit for.”

“Uh, yeah, just fine, ma’am.” Sips made a show of sniffing, before giving a very forced cough. “Just got this cold I can’t quite seem to beat. It’s a real pain in the _ass_.”

The secretary’s eyes widened at his emphasis on the last word, and she immediately looked away from him back at her computer, while Sjin just started laughing appreciatively. “Oh dear, now I reckon you’ve definitely spooked her. She’s opened some sort of data entry screen. I think she’s actually doing work!”

Sips would have been slightly disappointed by this eventuality, but before he could even begin to settle back into being bored, her phone went off and she immediately picked it up. “Mhm. Right,.” She hung up and turned her attention to Sips, eyeing him with a new distrust. “He’ll see you now. Just go right in.”

Sips got to his feet and stretched before heading toward the door behind her desk, flashing her a grin as he passed that she didn’t return. He couldn’t help another little chuckle at this, and he didn’t bother even trying to put on a more serious expression as he headed into the office, Sjin trailing right behind him. “Xephos, man, how the fuck are you doing? I haven’t seen you in what, a fucking decade?!”

His bright greeting was met by an old familiar sigh as the bearded man behind the fancy looking desk rubbed at his forehead, giving a somewhat tired looking wave with his other hand. “Yeah, hello, Sips. Mind sitting down and getting straight to whatever the hell it is you want from me? I’ve got a stack of paperwork that needs filling out about reaching the bloody ceiling.”

“Wow, buddy. What a way to greet an old friend.” Sips remarked even as he did what was requested of him and flopped down onto a chair opposite the desk. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?”

“Selling a major business isn’t exactly stress free, is it?” The response was terse and a bit frustrated, as Xephos wiggled the mouse of his computer around for a moment before continuing.  “Especially when NOTHING IN THIS FUCKING BUILDING IS WORKING RIGHT, FUCKING TITS!”

Sips was used to being surprised by now, but the sudden change in Xephos volume even succeeded in making _him_ jump. He’d forgotten just how explosive Xephos’ temper could be once he started reaching the end of his tether, as he obviously had now. Sips opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Sjin interrupted him with a murmured, “Erm… Sips?”

He glanced at his ghostly companion, who was pointing to the opposite end of the room. A look in the direction in which Sjin had pointed immediately revealed what he assumed to be the cause of Xephos’ apparent technology problems. A portly ginger fellow was stood in one corner, next to the computer’s plug, which was out of the socket, looking terribly pleased with himself.

Sips would have been able to guess that this was a ghost simply from the context, but as it happened, there was an even more obvious piece of evidence toward the figure’s ghostly nature. Namely that it was very obviously the long deceased founder of this company, Honeydew himself. He flicked his gaze back to Sjin and jerked his head slightly in Honeydew’s direction. Sjin responded with a bit of a laugh and a salute, before making his way over to talk to the ghost in question. That out of the way, Sips turned back to Xephos, who was still busy enough with the computer that he didn’t seem to have noticed Sips’ momentary distraction.

“That’s what I’m here about, actually. Why the fuck are you selling the place? It’s not like you’re struggling here. Pretty sure I would’ve heard about it if the company was going under. Has old Strifey just learned to be that fucking convincing?”

“I don’t particularly see why you give a shit what I do with my company, but if you must know, Strife’s offered a sizable sum, and recent events have made me keen on retiring early.” Xephos responded a bit testily, before letting out a relieved sigh as his monitor flashed back to life, most likely courtesy of Sjin, who Sips could hear deep in conversation with Honeydew, although he couldn’t make out any specifics.

“If you must know-” Sips mimicked, delighting at the annoyed look that crossed Xephos’ face, “I promised the lady that runs that fuckin’ owl sanctuary you’re supposed to be funding that I’d look into it. What do you have against owls? I know they eat gross shit, but come on.”

Xephos was starting to look less annoyed and more just plain confused. “What, Owl Island? I’m sorry that they’ll lose funding with the buyout, but it was just a bloody tax writeoff.”

“Now you see, that’s exactly the attitude that makes this bastard such a shit CEO!” A new voice piped in, and Sips did his best to pretend not to hear it as Honeydew appeared next to him, Sjin in tow. “All he cares about is innovation. This bloody company has principles!” His words were punctuated by a sparking noise, and smoke began to emit from the monitor on Xephos’ desk. He let out a groan and smacked the thing, an action that probably only hurt his hand rather than helping any.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you see? This is why I can’t deal with this bullshit anymore. It’s been nothing but streak after streak of bad luck since I took over, I’d rather just shove this fucking problem on someone else, and if Strife is interested, fuck it, he can have it!”

Sips was beginning to put two and two together, despite not having heard much of Honeydew’s side of the story. It was obvious that there were some differences in Xephos’ managerial approach that the founder wasn’t particularly happy with, and he was making his life a living hell as a result.

“Hey, maybe it’s just karma or something. Wasn’t this company founded on really green principles or some shit?” Sips questioned, earning a confused look from Xephos.

“That’s not the sort of thing I’d expect to hear from you of all people. Isn’t Sipsco about the least green company there is?”

“Well, I mean, my dirt gets used by a whole fucking lot of farmers, so I would argue that it’s pretty green by virtue of leading to plants existing.” The groan Sips got in response to this comment was answer enough. “My company isn’t what we’re discussing here, is it? I was just saying, you know, sometimes the world works in mysterious ways. It could be why you’re having such a hard time.”

Xephos’ eyes narrowed a bit, and he studied Sips for a long moment before speaking again. “Did you get into that new age hippie crap, suddenly? Is that what this is about?”

Sips resisted the urge to inform him that this was actually at the insistence of an actual hippie, no new age involved, “I’m doing this for my damn legal advisor, alright? I owe him and he’s got a huge fucking crush on that owl girl.” He’d thrown Nilesy under the bus a bit there, but Nilesy had already agreed to be part of this by virtue of claiming he’d been the one to text him, and besides, he was pretty sure that second part wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Jesus christ, if it’ll shut you up, I’ll put it in the contract that Strife needs to keep the place open. Are you happy now?” This entire conversation was obviously trying Xephos’ patience, and to be honest, Sips was actually just fine with that arrangement. The founder’s ghost, on the other hand, didn’t seem to agree in the slightest.

“That Strife bastard won’t give a shit about this company. You tell him that if he sells this place I’m going to haunt him until he dies!”

“...Do you really think convincing the guy that Sips is out of his mind is going to help stop him selling this company?” Sjin chimed in, sounding just a bit exasperated. Sips had a feeling their conversation in the corner hadn’t exactly been productive.

“Does it look like I give a damn? Xephos is bad enough, I don’t want Honeydew Inc in the hands of someone even worse!”

Sips did his best to tune them out as he tried to think of a plausible argument against Xephos’ solution. As good as it had sounded to him, it clearly wasn’t an option if he didn’t want to risk another ghost following him around berating him for help. “Do you really want Strife to have this company too? You know, he already tried to buy out Sipsco. I swear that fucker’s grand scheme is to have a monopoly on every damn industry in this city, and this is Strife we’re talking about. Do you even remember what he was like in school? And you want that fucking guy to have that much power?”

His words did seem to have the intended effect, to an extent, but Xephos still didn’t seem even remotely convinced; just slightly doubtful. That was progress, at least.

“Not particularly, but what else would you have me do? I can’t quit. There’s no one else here even remotely fit for running the place. If I just left, I’d leave the company in ruins, and it’d only be a matter of time before whoever I left in charge agreed to the buyout anyway.” This was a much more candid response than Sips had entirely expected, and he noticed that Honeydew seemed decidedly less pissed off than he had been mere moments before. Sips could see why.

“I dunno, bud, it seems to me like you give at least a bit of a shit about this place. Why exactly do you wanna quit again?”

“I never even really wanted to run the place. I used to work in R&D, you know? I sort of regret deciding it was a good idea to move on up the corporate ladder. It could have been great, I suppose, but it seems like every time I try to innovate, everything goes to shit.”

“Him and his damn innovation.” Honeydew grumbled from the side, and Sips let out an annoyed sigh.

“Okaay, you know what? I think you need a fucking break. Have you ever actually been to- what’s it, Owl Island?”

“No, and I don’t have time for that right now. What part of me having a mountain of paperwork went over your head, Sips?”

“Don’t be a stubborn piece of fancy silk shirted shit, dude.”

Xephos glanced down at the shirt he was wearing before looking back up at Sips with a bit of a frown. “What have you got against silk?”

“What have you got against owls?!”

“Jesus fucking christ, fine!”

~~~

A short time later found the rather motley crew of two humans and two ghosts arriving back at the rehab center, Xephos with an expression not unlike that of a small child who’s mother had just forced them to go on a very boring field trip. Sips wasn’t even entirely sure what he was trying to achieve with this, but he had a good feeling about it, so he’d decided to go with it.

Lomadia didn’t look particularly pleased to see him or his one visible follower when they waltzed right into the barn, but he couldn’t exactly blame her for that. His earlier visit hadn’t really made her job any easier. When he introduced the dour looking man beside him, that displeased look went into straight up annoyance, and she crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at Xephos.

“Fancy that, eh? You finally decide to come have a look at the place right after you’ve signed its death warrant. Brilliant.”

Xephos at least had the decency to look somewhat ashamed about this, and he brought up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Sips thought I should see the place. Blame him for this, not me.”

“Hey, I just figured seeing one of those big charitable deeds your stupid company was founded on might actually inspire you to give a shit.” Sips responded, rolling his eyes, then turning to look at Lomadia. “He already agreed that he’s going to insist on keeping you open if he sells, so cut him some slack. Believe me, you’re better off with him funding you than Strife.”

“Sips, I haven’t in any way indicated that I might not sell. I’ve agreed to this buyout and-”

“Just shut up and let the lady show you her owls, would you please?”

Lomadia, for her part, let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. Come on then, you’re here now, I might as well give you the grand tour.”

Xephos shot Sips a look, but followed Lomadia as she walked away, still looking like he wanted to be just about anywhere else right then. Sips hung back a ways to let them talk, and turned to look and Sjin and Honeydew once the others were out of earshot.

“You really need to stop giving him so much crap. Yeah, maybe his priorities aren’t completely in line with yours, but he’s not a bad guy, and I don’t fucking say that often. People believe in what he’s put out. Have you seen your stock lately? Do you even know how to check that? You’re from what, a century ago?”

Honeydew let out a huff and glared up at Sips. “What do I care? You know what I founded this company to create? Bloody biscuits! We don’t need his damn innovations, those biscuits carried this business for a century!”

“There’s nothing wrong with expanding your horizons, you know.” Sjin interjected. “Fuck, I used to be incapable of having a dream that didn’t involve fucking chilis!”

Sips looked at Sjin, brow slightly raised. “Chilis?”

“What? I grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere. You do that and then try having a dream about anything other than the crop you spent your early years tending. I didn’t exactly have a lot of outside influences.”

Honeydew was also staring at Sjin, looking thoughtful, before a look of realization crossed his face. “Aren’t you the kid that came to Honeydew Inc trying to get funding for a chili stand, what… fifty fucking years ago?”

“...Look, the chilli stand I may or may not have wanted to open isn’t what’s important right now-”

“Chili Wowas! That’s what it was called. What the fuck kind of a name was that, anyway?”

“A good one!” Sjin sounded downright indignant, and Sips couldn’t help but laugh at his defensiveness.

“No, Sjin, no it’s not. That’s a terrible name. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“For fuck’s sake, I was seventeen! I’d like to see you try to come up with a better name at seventeen! Or now, for that matter! You named your fucking company Sipsco. You literally just added a ‘co’ to your own damn name. Don’t even talk to me about creativity. How did we even end up discussing this this?!”

“You’re the one that brought it up in the first place.” Sips pointed out, rather fairly, he thought.

“Yeah, as a comparison to- Okay, look, the point is, just because you find yourself focusing on one thing, doesn’t mean changing your mind and trying new things is a bad thing, yeah?”

“Sure, in your case. What kind of a business plan is a stand that literally just sells chilis?” Honeydew questioned.

“There’s a reason I became an architect and not a business mogul, alright? I’m just saying that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with innovation, and Sips is right, you could do a hell of a lot worse than having that guy as your successor.” He jerked a thumb in Xephos’ direction, and Sips glanced over to see his old buddy looking decidedly less pissy as he carefully stroked an owl that was perched on Lomadia’s arm.

“Well said, Chili guy.” Sips commented, earning a rather scathing look from Sjin, which utterly failed to bother him in the slightest. “You don’t have to like everything he does, but maybe lay off fucking with every piece of technology in the building? All you’re doing is sending him into an early mid life crisis.”

Honeydew stared over at Xephos, a frown still firmly planted on his features. “Well, what else am I supposed to do when he makes stupid fucking decisions?”

“Let him make them. No offense, but it isn’t exactly your company anymore. You don’t really have much sway in how things go from here, apart from helping to make them worse.” Sjin was managing to stay surprisingly diplomatic about this, despite the fact that he was obviously still annoyed at the little ribbing session he’d just been on the receiving end of.

Before Honeydew could respond, Xephos made his way back over to Sips, his brow furrowed as if deep in thought. Sips gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder.

“Well, how’d you like the tour? Still hating on owls for no fucking reason?”

“Jesus, I never fucking said I hated owls! As it happens, I quite like them!” Xephos responded a bit testily, before sighing and looking around the darkened building. “I dunno, I’ve got a lot to think on. She got to talking about her great grandmother, and told me this story about how this place ended up in her family’s hands in the first place. It’s sort of… inspiring, really, the sort of stuff that Honeydew did back in the day. Sort of reminded me about why I loved the damn company in the first place.”

The short ghost puffed out his chest a bit upon hearing this praise, clearly loving every bit of it, and Sips bit back a laugh at the amusing sight. “I’m telling you, buddy. It’s just karma. You weren’t paying enough attention to the stuff that company of yours is supposed to care about. It was never supposed to be about the bottom line.”

“No, I don’t suppose it was.” Xephos responded, looking thoughtful. “I still don’t really trust your motivation, I’ll admit, but… You were right, bringing me here. Thanks for that, friend.”

“Does this mean you’re not gonna sell to old Strifey, then?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but it does mean that’s postponed indefinitely. It might have been a bit of a rash decision. Not that Strife’s gonna be pleased about this.”

“Ah whatever, he’ll deal with it. He was always too serious about shit, it’ll do him good to be taken down a peg or two.”

“Well, regardless, I’ll have to get back to the office. I’ve got a deal to call off.” He moved to leave, then turned to Sips again. “Don’t be a stranger, alright? You’re a pain in the fucking ass, but I’d say a reunion should have been called for at least a few years before a bloody decade. We could have a drink one night, maybe even convince Strife to come along.”

“Yeah, sure, how’s five years from now?”

“Sounds great.” Xephos replied with a chuckle, before heading out the door. Sips waved to Lomadia, who seemed to be quite busy trying to free her shirt from where it appeared to have been caught on the talon of a large owl.  He could probably have offered to help, but he decided then and there that he’d done quite enough to help her for one day.

~~~

“You might be right about him.” Honeydew was saying from the back seat of Sips’ car as they headed back to the apartment. Sips hadn’t quite reached the point of flat out asking him to leave yet, but he was starting to get a bit worried that he and Sjin might have found themselves a new tagalong. He really wasn’t keen on a Smith 2.0. “He’s a bit of a fuck up, but he’s got a good head and a good enough heart.”

“I told you, there’s plenty of people out there way fucking worse than him, even if he does have some shit fashion sense.” Sips commented, earning a bit of a chuckle from Sjin.

“Would you trust him to run your company?”

“Hell no, but my company doesn’t have room for a big fucking softie taking the helm.”

“Guess you’d better quit, then.” Sjin mumbled, smirking at him from the passenger’s seat. “Given that you’re quite possibly the biggest fucking softie I’ve ever met.”

“Hey, no fucking comments from the peanut gallery.”

“Sips is a softie, Sips is a softie-” Sjin began to chant in a singsong voice, before Sips cut him off.

“What are you, five? Aren’t you supposed to be like fucking ancient? You’d think you’d have matured at least a bit by now.”

“Nah, I think dying sort of permanently stunted my maturity… Softie.”

Sips groaned. “God, you’re fucking lucky I like you.”

“Would you two mind getting a room? I’m not here to watch you flirt.” Honeydew piped up from the back, prompting Sips to turn around to look at him as they pulled up to a stoplight.

“I don’t remember actually inviting you along for the ride.”

“Alright, that’s a fair point.” The short ghost responded after a moment of thought, before suddenly vanishing. Sips frowned slightly and started the car forward again as the light turned green.

“We’re really shit at this, you know that?” He questioned. Sjin turned to look at him questioningly.

“Shit at what?”

“This ghost busting thing. I keep expecting them to like, move on and shit when we help them out, but our track record for that is crap. Only two out of four. Two out of five, actually, if we’re counting Ridgedouche.”

“I fuckin’ forgot about Ridge. He never did come after you again, did he? Reckon he must have wised up that it would be a bad fucking idea.”

“That or he’s just biding his time, waiting to catch me unaware when I don’t have my vicious attack ghost around.” Sips chuckled a bit at his own joke, and Sjin let out a bit of a laugh as well. “I oughta get a bumper sticker or something. ‘Beware of Ghost’.”

Sips was feeling exceptionally full of levity as they pulled into his parking spot and got out to head into the apartment building. That levity turned to a familiar sense of resignation they got off the elevator for the penthouse to see Nilesy waiting outside the door.

“Oh for the love of- whatever it is, Nilesy, it can wait until tomorrow, I’m not in the mood to deal with any more shit today.”

Nilesy just stared straight at his front door, looking more than a bit unfocused. He didn’t actually acknowledge what Sips had said, instead  just giving his head a vigorous shake and rubbing at his temple.

“Nilesy!” He spoke again, more sharply this time. It seemed to work, as he actually turned to look at Sips, an expression of utter confusion on his face.

“Sips! I… uh… why- why the fuck am I here?” The question didn’t seem to actually be aimed at Sips, and Nilesy’s eyes lost their focus again as his gaze fell to the carpeted floor. Sips was kind of starting to get freaked out. There was something incredibly off about this whole encounter. He turned to look at Sjin, who was just staring at Nilesy, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Nilesy, man, you’re kinda starting to scare me here. What the fuck are you on?” Sips questioned, and once again his words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“Sips.” Sjin finally spoke, his voice hesitant. “I… think I may know what’s going on.”

Nilesy’s gaze moved up from the floor once again, and his eyes focused on right where Sjin was standing. It suddenly dawned on Sips, accompanied by a horrible sinking feeling, that this was because he had heard him. He hesitated for a long moment, because he really didn’t think he wanted confirmation on the theory forming in his head, before reaching out to touch his legal advisor’s shoulder, only to be met with cold air instead. Nilesy looked down at the hand that was now basically in his torso, gave a mumbled, “What?” and then vanished.

Sips stared at the spot where Nilesy had been, then turned to look at Sjin, voice cracking slightly when he managed to speak. “That- that was just a really fucking vivid hallucination, right? Some kind of fucking fever dream?” Sjin just looked back at him silently and shook his head. Sips jumped as his text tone went off, and he grabbed it out of his pocket, hopeful for anything that would prove that the encounter he had just had hadn’t actually happened. The flood of relief when he saw the notification of a message from Nilesy didn’t last when he actually opened up the rather lengthy text.

- _Well, hey again! Long time no see. I’ve had a long time to think, and you’ll be glad to know that I decided killing you would be a waste of time. Especially when just turning your life into a living hell would be so much sweeter! You didn’t really have any friends back when we had our last chat, did you? Except that little beardy bud of yours, and sadly, he’s already dead._

_Guess that’s changed now though, huh? You have loads of buddies! Or a couple of ‘em at least! Good for you! Also good for me!_

_This is going to be so much fucking fun, let me tell you!_

_XOXO,_

_Ridge_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm a terrible person.


	12. Chapter Twelve

The silence in the penthouse was positively deafening. Neither Sips nor Sjin had said a word since Sips had read the text he had received out loud. Sips had dropped the phone on the coffee table, said text still open, and flopped down onto the couch, resting his head in his hands and staring at the words on the screen.

Sjin didn’t seem particularly keen on breaking the silence either. He’d settled down beside Sips, although he was keeping a greater distance from him than he normally would have, most likely thinking that Sips needed the space.

“...What the fuck are we supposed to do?” Sips questioned in a dull tone, finally breaking their self imposed silence after about fifteen minutes. “What the fuck _can_ we even do? Call the police and tell them a ghost killed my friend and threatened to kill more of my friends? This is completely fucked.”

It occurred to Sips that he had just referred to Nilesy, in all sincerity, as a friend. It was a hell of a time to realize that for all his bitching about the guy, he actually did kind of like him.

“I suppose we’ll just… have to figure something out for ourselves.” Sjin responded, his tone subdued.

“Yeah, but what? We have no fucking idea what we’re doing half the time, and this time there’s actually a fucking lot to lose. What if-” Sips shut his mouth, jerking back in surprise as Nilesy materialised in front of him, standing in the middle of the coffee table. He still had that decidedly unfocused look about him, and he squeezed his eyes shut as if in concentration before opening them again and managing to actually point his gaze at Sips.

“I don’t- what the fuck is going on?” He asked in a somewhat desperate sounding tone, stumbling over the words. Sips stared back at him, unsure what to say. He was so incredibly out of his element, here. It wasn’t like the ghostly strangers he had encountered at all. This was personal, and he had never been good with personal.

“Nilesy.” Sjin piped up beside him, and Sips felt a wave of gratitude toward him as his legal advisor slowly turned to look at him instead, brow furrowed in confusion. “Nilesy, buddy, I know this is confusing as hell, but I need you to concentrate for a moment, alright? Can you tell us the last thing you remember?”

“I don’t… know.” The reply was halting, as Nilesy seemed to almost flicker out of existence in the middle of speaking. A glance at Sjin told Sips that this kind of thing probably wasn’t exactly normal for a ghost; he looked just as freaked out as Sips was beginning to feel. Taking a steadying breath, Sips turned back to Nilesy.

“You don’t remember anything? We’re trying to figure this shit out, but we need your help, man. The fucker that did this to you might do this to someone else.” If Nilesy even heard him, he didn’t acknowledge it. He was staring into space once again. “Nilesy!” The sharper tone seemed to drag him out of whatever fog he was in, and Nilesy looked at him once again. “We need to know everything that you remember. This is serious. This guy could go after Zoey, next. He could even go after your owl lady.”

“Nah, Lom- Lom’s with me.” Nilesy managed to reply, looking somewhat confused at his own words, and Sips started to feel kind of sick. This shit seemed to be progressing faster than he had thought it would.

“What? Do you mean she’s dead?”

“I… what? No. She’s- no. What?” Before Nilesy could clarify what he had actually meant, Sips’ phone went off, and as if responding to some cue from the universe, Nilesy vanished once again. Cursing, Sips picked up the phone to check the caller ID.

“Zoey, this is a really fucking bad time.” He mumbled when he answered, only to feel a bit guilty for the rather harsh greeting when he heard sniffling on the other end. “Shit, what is it?”

“Oh, gosh it’s… it’s just awful, Sips.” Zoey’s voice was wavering terribly, and Sips couldn’t remember a time that he had ever heard her sound quite so upset.

“...Is it Nilesy?” His question was met with silence initially, but after a few seconds Zoey did respond.

“Yeah… how did you know?”

“I had a feeling. What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know. His breaks must have failed or- or something. He um, he drove right into an intersection. He’d just been by to see me, I saw the whole thing. They’ve been asking me if I think he could’ve done it on purpose, and I told them he wouldn’t have, but I just-” Her voice cracked again, and Sips could hear her taking steadying breaths before she continued. “They’re saying his chances should improve if he makes it through the night, but that it’s incredibly unlikely.”

“...What?”

“He just took such a blow to the head, and there was so much internal damage, and they promised they’re doing their best, but they sound even less optimistic than they did about _you,_ and you’re supposed to be some sort of _miracle,_ so even if he does survive the night, his chances of waking up are-”

The realization of what Zoey was saying suddenly hit him, and he breathed in sharply, almost afraid to feel hopeful about what he was hearing, at least until he got confirmation.

“He’s in a god damn coma?”

“Yes, that’s what I was trying to-”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, I’m sitting outside his room right-”

“Shiiit, that’s the best fucking news I’ve heard all night!”

“...Oh my _gosh_ Sips, that’s horrible! I know you sometimes find him a bit annoying, but-”

“No, I didn’t mean it like- Zoey, I have a lot of shit to figure out. I’ll explain later, but do me a favor and stay at the hospital, okay? Stay around people, and for the love of fucking god, don’t go anywhere near any cars. If I find out you were within twenty fucking feet of a car tonight, you’re fired, and I’m completely god damn serious about that.”

“Well, alright, but-”

“Later. I’ll stop by the hospital when I can. Is Fiona there with you?”

“Yes, but why-”

“Make sure she stays too, okay? Seeya later.” He hung up before she could even get in another word, and flopped heavily back on the sofa, before bursting into a sudden bout of hysterical laughter as the relief truly hit him.

“So he’s… not dead?” Sjin’s asked, sounding about as confused as Sips was feeling. This made absolutely no sense, and he now had even less of an understanding of what was happening, but the future was suddenly looking decidedly less bleak.

“Apparently fucking not!” Sips replied, still just a bit giddier than he had any right to be. “I have no friggen’ idea what that means for the fucking ‘ghost’ we’ve been seeing, but Zoey seemed pretty damn positive he isn’t dead.” Even as he spoke, he opened a search engine on his phone, trying to recall the name on the card that Fiona had given him that night at the bar. Something about Nanoo’s Prophecies? Or Madame Nano’s Potions and Prophecies. Thank fuck for search suggestions. “I think it’s time for us to meet up with one of my ‘peers’. We need all the fucking help we can get.”

~~~

It was getting rather late by the time Sips and Sjin arrived at the address google had presented Sips with. The walk hadn’t exactly been a short one, but he wasn’t about to trust anything with an engine. Not tonight.

“Do you really think this woman is the real deal?” Sjin asked, his tone skeptical, as he looked up at the sign in the window of the small shop in front of them. “Because that kind of title just screams ‘fraud’ to me.”

Sips gave a bit of a shrug as he headed in the front door, which was thankfully still open. “Worth a try, right?”

Once inside of the shop, Sips began to think that Sjin had probably been right about this. The moodily lit room was the picture of a stereotypical psychic’s place, with dark curtains everywhere, a crystal ball on a table, and the smell of incense in the air. At the jingling sound of the bells on the door, one of the curtains was pushed forward as a tiny, dark haired woman rushed out from what appeared to be a back room to greet them. “Hello, my child!” She greeted in a rather dramatic voice. “How may the spirits and I be of assistance to you tonight?”

As she got close enough to really be seen in the dim light, Sips couldn’t help but stare. She probably would have been quite pretty, were it not for the rather horrific looking burn scar that covered the right half of her face. She was probably pretty used to stares, as his staring didn’t seem to phase her in the slightest. Before he could speak, she took him by the wrist and pulled him over to one of the chairs at the table with the crystal ball, then sat down opposite him.

“No, don’t tell me… I see it… I see… a man…” Now that he was even closer, Sips saw that while her left eye was a nice shade of deep brown, the eye on the burned half of her face was an unsettling milky white color. She was obviously partially blind. “A bit old fashioned looking… Rather striking facial hair…”

It was only at this last comment that Sips noticed that she was not, in fact, looking at the crystal ball at all, but behind him, where Sjin was currently floating. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.

“Who, Sjin? Yeah, I know he’s there. Kinda hard to miss him. You should see what he’s done to my fucking cable bill.”

‘Madame Nano’ looked at him for a long moment, seemingly surprised, before letting out an extremely relieved sounding sigh. “Oh thank the lord, you’ve no idea how exhausting that ‘mysterious medium’ act can get.” She commented dryly, her tone much more genuine, as she got to her feet and blew out the incense on a nearby shelf, before flicking a switch that promptly flooded the room with a much more pleasant amount of light. “If you’re not here for a reading, though, what are you here for?”

“I was hoping you might be able to explain something that I can’t for the god damn life of me figure out. I’ve been seeing this ghost, but he’s kinda… not dead.”

What had been an expression of mild curiosity on Nano’s face now turned to a look of utter fascination. “What, really? You know, I think I may know what’s going on there. Hang on, it’s gotta be in one of my reference books, I’ll just- Why don’t you come into the back while I have a look, we’ve just put the kettle on.”

Sips’ unasked question of who exactly ‘we’ entailed was answered as he and Sjin followed her into the cluttered back room. There, engrossed in a massive and complex looking volume, was his very own head of Research and Development.

“Lalna?!”

The blonde glanced up from his book at the sound of his name, his face splitting into a bit of a grin. “Well! Fancy seeing you here, boss!”

“You know this lady?! Why the hell didn’t you say so when Fiona gave me her card?!”

“You didn’t ask, did you?” Lalna responded with a shrug, part of his attention returning to the open book in front of him. “I’ve known Nano for ages. That gift of hers is absolutely fucking fascinating.”

“He’s dead set on finding some sort of a scientific explanation. I don’t think there is one, personally.” Nano commented, pouring three cups of tea, before turning to Sjin. “Not to be rude, but I’d rather not waste any on someone who can’t drink it.”

“No offense taken.” Sjin responded mildly as he wandered the room, taking in the piles of books and scientific equipment.

“Lal, do you remember where that reference book on astral projection was?”

Lalna seemed to ignore the question at first, but after a moment he pulled his attention away from what he was reading again to squint around his workspace at a few of the piles of books. A few seconds later, he yanked a rather sizeable one out of one of the piles and shoved it across the table toward her and Sips. “That’s a silly term, you know. What’s wrong with Out-of-Body Experience?”

“Oh, whatever you want to call it. Thanks.” She grabbed the book and began to flip through it even as she spoke to Sips. “This ‘ghost’, do you know if anything might have happened to him before you started seeing him?”

“Yeah, actually. Car accident. He’s still out cold, as far as I know.”

“Oh, wow, this is absolutely incredible! I’ve never actually seen proof that an Out-of-Body Experience is literally a separation of the soul from the body, but it fits! They’re often brought on by traumatic, near death experiences.” She turned to Lalna, looking smug. “I told you there was more to the idea than just some… altered mental state.”

“I never said that’s all there was to it. Just that most evidence pointed to that.” He turned to Sips, the book he had been reading seemingly forgotten for now. “You’ve got actual proof, then?”

“Well, if seeing and chatting with a ghost when the dude isn’t dead is proof, then yeah.” He paused for a moment, before adding, “It’s Nilesy, actually. From the office. He’s kinda fucked right now.”

“Little fellow with the black hair?” Lalna questioned with a frown. When Sips nodded, he sighed. “That fucking sucks. What the hell happened? You said something about a car accident?”

“Yeah, uh… It’s kinda my fault? Long story. Asshole of a ghost thinks I’m the reason he’s dead, and he’s taking that out on everyone I know. Speaking of which you should probably hang out here for the night, at least. We had drinks that one night, crazy bastard might take that as a sign that you’re my best fucking friend. Stay away from cars, I think he’s decided they’re his thing.”

Lalna was surprisingly accepting of what many people would likely have considered either completely unbelievable, or at least unsettling news. “Yeah, alright then. I’ve not got much else on.”

Sjin, having apparently had his fill of exploring the place, made his way over to stand next to Sips, before directing his attention to Nano. “That brings us to another question. Do you know how to get rid of a particularly violent and uncooperative ghost? He’s a huge fucking prick, I don’t think he’s going to be moving on willingly any time soon.”

Nano sat back in her seat, looking thoughtful. “Sounds like you’ve got a vengeful spirit on your hands. I’ve never had the misfortune to encounter one myself, but I’ve heard enough to know that they’re really nasty business. They focus so much on getting revenge against the person or thing that they think wronged them that they lose any grip on their former humanity. If that’s what’s happened, you’re right about him not moving on by choice. You might have to force it.”

“Don’t suppose you know how to go about forcing it, then, do you?”

“I’m afraid not. Me and Lal can look into it, but it’ll take some time.”

“How much time? I don’t know how much we’ve got with a fuckin’ ghost lunatic plotting against us.”

“I told you ages ago, you should have a word with that dude at Strife Solutions!” Nilesy’s appearance was sudden enough to make all three of those who could see him in the room jump. Lalna raised a brow at this, but didn’t even bother to ask about it.

“I’m sorry, ‘that dude at Strife Solutions’?” Nano questioned, a bit skeptically, to Sips’ ears at least. “Are you talking about Parvis of all people?”

“Yeah! That’s the one. I’ve heard weird rumors about him for years and years. Bet you if anyone knows a method to deal with this, it’s him.”

Nano didn’t look even remotely convinced, but this was good enough for Sips. “If he might know what to do, we’ll give him a shot. You seem a lot more put together, Nilesy.”

“My head feels a lot fucking less jumbled, let me tell you. Everything was so damn… I dunno, foggy? Until a minute or so ago. Or a bit like everything was underwater. Little moments of clarity in a whole mess of fuckin’ nonsense. Wasn’t easy to talk either. Like, you ever try to speak with your mouth full of cotton balls? Bit like that.”

“...Can’t say I’ve tried that, no, but I’ll take your word for-” As Sips was speaking, he actually bothered to really _look_ at Nilesy. Namely, at the fact that a large patch of his head was now shaven around an incredibly unattractive wound. Nilesy’s previous appearances that evening might have been sporadic, but Sips was pretty damn sure that he hadn’t had a visible massive head injury. “Uh, Nilesy? You may sound a lot better, but you look fucking terrible, man. Pretty sure I can kinda see part of your brain right now.”

“Ew, what?” Nilesy reached up a hand to touch his head, making a bit of a face when he reached the shaven bit. “Fucking hell, I think at one point I could hear some doctors talking about a skull fracture, but-”

“Oh yeah, there’s definitely some visible brain...” Sjin interrupted, having moved to stand directly next to Nilesy. He squinted a bit before grimacing slightly. “Eugh, I think there might be bone shards in there. You may have some serious brain damage if you get through this, mate.”

“Oh, well then! That’s just brilliant, isn’t it?” Nilesy sighed.

“Hopefully you won’t have to relearn how to use a spoon?”

“How is that helping?” Nano spoke up for the first moment in some time, having mostly fallen into the role of silent observer after Nilesy’s arrival. “I’m sure you won’t have to relearn how utensils work, um, Nilesy, was it?”

“Yeah, thanks. Glad someone’s being a bit optimistic here.” He responded somewhat testily, casting a glare at Sjin, who just smiled right back. Rolling his eyes, Nilesy turned his attention to Sips. “You know, I’m really starting to rue the fuckin’ day I decided to work for-” Without warning, he was gone again.

“He really needs to stop with the whole teleporting right the fuck out of nowhere thing.” Sips commented conversationally, then looked over at Nano. “Do you know this Parvis guy, then?”

“‘Know’ might be too strong of a word. More like I’ve encountered him.”

“He’s a bit of a fucking dumbass.” Lalna interjected. “You may be better off just waiting for Nano and I to figure this out.”

“I really think we’re going to have to take our chances. Do you know how I can reach him, or am I just gonna have to call up Strife Solutions and argue with the secretary?”

“As it happens, you’re in luck. I’ve never phoned him, but the last time I met him he absolutely insisted I take his number in case I ever need his… ‘expertise’.” Nano replied, saying the last word as if it was a curse word most foul, as she got out her phone and scrolled through her contacts before handing it to Sips. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you about him.”

Sips took the phone and copied the number into his own contacts, before pressing dial. “Hey there, Parvis.” He greeted when the call was answered, not waiting for a response. “This is the CEO of Sipsco. I need some help, and ‘word on the street’ is you might know how to banish an annoying fucking ghost to hell.”

~~~

Sips really didn’t have the highest of hopes for this venture. Parvis had seemed just a little bit too excited about performing what he called a banishing ritual, and Sips had a feeling that Lalna and Nano might have been right about him. It was too late to back out now, though. He’d already enlisted Nano and Lalna’s somewhat reluctant help after being told that the ‘ritual’ required at least six living beings present, and he now found himself at the hospital, hoping to recruit two more.

It didn’t take long to find Zoey and Fiona in the waiting room for the ICU. Both women looked exhausted, and Zoey had obviously been crying recently, if her puffy eyes were anything to go by. Fiona noticed Sips first, and gave Zoey’s shoulder a gentle shake. The moment she looked up and saw him, she was on her feet, and she had thrown her arms around him within seconds. She had always been a bit freer with physical affection or comfort than Sips particularly liked to be, but he wasn’t about to complain. He just hugged her back, giving her an awkward pat on the shoulder, before deciding that a few seconds was quite enough and pulling back.

“I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been just awful. He crashed a little while ago. They said they actually lost him for a few minutes but they managed to get his heart going again.”

Sips wondered vaguely if this was the reason behind Nilesy’s sudden moment of clarity, but he opted not to ask. Zoey really didn’t need to hear about that. “That’s really shitty, but I’m not here about that. I mean, I kinda am, but… I need your help. Fiona’s too. I know who’s fault this is and we need to fuck his shit up. There’s this guy who knows what to do, but we need a group to do it. I’m supposed to gather up a crew and meet him at the cemetery in-” He glanced at the wall clock. “Twenty minutes. Nano and Lalna are meeting us there. Think you guys are up for it?”

“Ghost stuff?” Zoey questioned. When he nodded, she sniffed a bit, but stood up a bit straighter, as if steeling herself. “I’m in. I’m sure Fiona will be too. If there’s someone at fault for this, they’ve got to pay for it.”

“I could kiss you, you know that? I’m not gonna, but you know.” Sips responded with a laugh as Zoey responded in kind. “Go get your lovely lady on board, alright? I’ll fill you both in on the details on the way.”

“Erm, Sips?” Sjin spoke as Zoey rushed back to Fiona. Sips looked at him questioningly. “You might want to turn around.”

Doing as he was told, he turned to find himself face to face with the owl lady herself. Lomadia looked every bit as tired as Zoey and Fiona did, although she didn’t appear to have been crying. He was actually sort of scared of the narrow eyed look she was giving him and took a step back.  

“You know what’s going on here? Tell me. I want in.”

“Uh, listen lady, this is some kind of unbelievable shit, you should probably just stay here and keep an eye on-”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if it’s unbelievable! You’ll tell me what’s going on and you’ll let me help or so help me I will kick you in your goddamn bollocks so hard they come out your-”

“Jeeesus, okay, okay! Relax, owl girl.” When he didn’t immediately start explaining, she crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes even more, one foot tapping on the ground to further stress her impatience. “Look, we don’t really have a lot of time here, alright? If you’re dead set on coming, I’ll tell you about everything on the way. Full disclosure though, this shit involves a vengeful spirit.”

If Lomadia found this difficult to accept, she didn’t say so. Instead she just nodded and made her way over to join Zoey and Fiona.

“This could work. We might not be totally screwed.” Sips commented as he looked over the trio he had managed to enlist. Between them and Lalna and Nano, they had their minimum number, and he could certainly think of people he trusted less than this ragtag group.

“It’s going to fail miserably. You know that, right?” Sjin commented after a moment. When Sips gave him an annoyed look, he just laughed. “What? I’m only being honest.”

“Shut up, Pessimist McGlass-Half-Empty.”

“Hey, my way, if we succeed, we’ll be pleasantly surprised rather than disappointed by the inevitable failure.”

Despite the rather dire circumstances, Sips had to laugh. “Let’s just go get this fuckin’... witchcraft shit over with.”

Sjin beside him, he made his way over to join Lomadia, Zoey, and Fiona.

Truth be told, he was pretty much scared shitless about the multitude of absolutely horrible ways that this plan could go, but hey, maybe if he pretended hard enough, he would even be able to convince himself that he wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, you all thought I was calling myself terrible for killing Nilesy? Nah, I was calling myself that for being a big enough douche to let you think so.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

“You know, if you asked me half a year ago where I saw myself in six months, I don’t think my first answer would have been ‘in a graveyard at midnight with a tupperware of pig blood’. Maybe second or third answer, but probably not first.”

With the exception of Sjin, none of the motley crew gathered in the graveyard with Sips seemed to find his attempt to lighten the mood particularly warranted.

“That’s because you obviously have no idea how to have a good time.” Parvis supplied, earning a sideways look from Zoey, who shifted closer to Fiona and further from him. “Give the blood here, it’s nearly twelve now.” Sips did as he was told, handing off the tupperware that he had managed to procure from a butcher’s shop. Parvis immediately got down on his knees in the grass and dipped a hand into the blood before smearing it on the ground in a circle of seemingly random patterns. Sips made a bit of a face.

“Man, that’s disgusting. Couldn’t you use a paintbrush or something?” At this suggestion, Parv looked up with a hopeful expression.

“Oh, have you got one?!”

“Eh… no. I don’t exactly carry around paintbrushes, buddy.” The hopeful expression faded, although Parv didn’t seem terribly put out about it.

“That’s alright. It’s not so bad, really, just like finger painting.”

“Oh, yeah. I love finger painting with the bodily fluids of dead animals. Too bad you’ve only got red, though. If I’d known this was gonna be used for art I would have brought some brown ‘paint’ too.”

“Maybe yellow as well? That color can get a bit too runny, though.” Sjin piped up, causing Sips to let out an appreciative chuckle.

Lalna, who had been watching Parvis draw his pattern of symbols in silence up until this point, suddenly interrupted by clearing his throat. “Erm, Parv… I recognize a few of those from one of my books, and I’ve got to ask. Are you certain this is actually a banishing ritual? Because it looks more like you’re trying to summon something.”

“Yeah, of course it does.” Parv responded in a relentlessly cheery tone. “You can’t banish something if it isn’t in front of you, can you?”

“...Wait a minute, we’re _summoning_ the murderous ghost?” Fiona asked, sounding and looking just a bit concerned about this revelation. Parv just gave a bit of a shrug.

“I thought that much was obvious.”

“Okay. Let me just check that I understand this.” Sips began as he tried to process this new piece of information. “We’re summoning the ghost that threatened to kill everyone I know, and we’re summoning him right the fuck to basically everyone I know?”

“That’s what the candles I brought are for.” Parv said conversationally, squinting down at a few of the symbols he had drawn. “...Wait, I think I’ve fucked this up a bit. Woopsy daisy! Wouldn’t want to go summoning a demon instead, now would we? That’d be a bit of a parvlem.”

“Did you… did you just say parvlem instead of problem?” Sips questioned. The only response he received was a grin and a nod as he went about correcting the mistake he had apparently made, and Sips decided it wasn’t worth his time to comment further.

“Didn’t you name that little city you made out of your mash the other night Sipsinatti?” Sjin asked wryly, and Sips shot him a glare.

“That was different.”

“The gravy river was the Mississipsi, wasn’t it? It fed into the Pasipsic Ocean.”

“Shut up.” He turned his attention back to Parv, who had gotten to his feet and was surveying his handiwork. “How are candles supposed to stop him from going kill crazy?”

“Everyone’s got to hold one, and as long as we hold them still on the border of the circle, he shouldn’t be able to leave it.”

“Shouldn’t?” Lomadia asked, speaking up for the first time since they had arrived. She seemed to be taking the whole ghost business in stride, thus far. “Shouldn’t doesn’t sound that foolproof.”

“Well, I’ve never actually tried this, but I think it’ll work! In theory, it’ll definitely work!”

“The setup does look alright to me.” Nano supplied, prompting a snort from Sips.

“You flat out said you know even less about what we’re doing here than he does, that’s not comforting at all! How do we know we’re not just gonna summon some fucking… Godzilla demon?!”

“That’s exactly what’s going to happen if you leave it to this idiot.” A new voice- and one that Sips recognized immediately- sounded.

“Strifey! What are you doing here?” Parv exclaimed, his face splitting into a grin as he brought one of his bloodied hands up in an excited wave.

“You tweeted about it, you complete goddamn moron. What on Earth possessed you to try a summoning ritual without my help?” The CEO of Strife solutions strode purposefully over to his employee and grabbed the container of blood before studying the ground for a moment, then kneeling down to make corrections. “My god man, you’re lucky I decided to save your asses.”

“Hey there, Strife.” Sips greeted conversationally, earning himself a glare from his old classmate. “What? Not happy to see me?”

“You lost me Honeydew Inc, Sips. That was going to be an incredibly lucrative investment. You’re not on my list of favorite people at the moment, no.” After making a few more changes, he got to his feet and wiped his hand off on his trousers, which were fortunately dark enough that the stains didn’t really show. “Pass the candles out, Parvis. We don’t want to be here all night.”

Parv did as he was told, and within a few minutes, the awkward group was stood around the circle, a lit candle in each of their hands.

“So, um, what happens if we drop one of them in the middle of it?” Zoey questioned a bit nervously.

“Don’t drop one of them, then we won’t have to find out.” Strife responded in a matter-of-fact tone. “This shouldn’t be too much of an issue. We summon the guy, one of you two-” He pointed at Nano and Sips, “Let me know when he appears, and then I read off the banishing ritual. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Did you really just say it’ll be a piece of cake? You’ve doomed us to failure.” Fiona remarked with a sigh.

“Is everybody ready?” Strife asked, completely ignoring Fiona’s interjection. After getting nods to the affirmative, he nodded as well and began to recite what sounded like a whole lot of gibberish to Sips. Just as he was starting to wonder if this was all just an exercise in completely useless bullshit, a few of the symbols in the circle began to glow faintly, and after a moment, their reason for gathering in this particular graveyard popped into existence in the center, looking decidedly pissed off.

Ridgedog looked around, his one good eye taking in the circle of people around him, and he scowled before turning his glare on Sips. “What the fuck is this?” He questioned, taking a step toward him and stopping suddenly as he reached the edge of the circle. He frowned and vanished suddenly, before reappearing in the center of the circle almost immediately. “You fucking trapped me? Oh, you little shit. You’re gonna pay for this one.”

“Uh, he’s here, and he’s not happy.” Sips commented without actually turning to look at Strife. Behind Ridge, he could see Nano nodding in agreement. “Maybe we can speed this up a little bit?”

“Can do.” Strife responded, not missing a beat as he immediately began reciting some new gobbledygook. As he spoke, Ridge stood motionless in the center of the circle. He seemed just a little bit too calm for someone who was at the mercy of a whole bunch of enemies, and after only a few seconds, Sips realized why. The fact that he was contained did not appear to have any effect on his ability to manipulate items in his vicinity.

With a loud cracking noise, a large branch broke off from the tree they were currently standing under, before crashing down to the ground between Nano and Lalna. Nano managed to stay surprisingly cool through this, and didn’t budge an inch. The same could not be said for Lalna, who let out a yelp and jumped back, the motion causing the candle in his hand to flicker out. This opening was all it took, and the next second, Ridge was out and standing behind a completely oblivious Zoey. “You like this one a lot, right? What do you think I should do? Bash her head in with one of those headstones? It’d really be a _head_ stone then, am I right?! Or I could always impale her with one of those loose fence posts. You know, I was gonna go easier on her than the others, but that was before you decided to be a complete fucking prick and-” Before Sips could warn her, and before Ridge even finished his little rant, Sjin flat out tackled him, knocking him into the circle once again and pinning him to the ground. Nano didn’t wait even a second to act as she pulled a sheepish looking Lalna back toward the circle and re lit his candle with her own.

“Where is he?” Strife questioned, his unflappable calm from earlier breaking slightly as he showed that he was clearly worried about the situation.

“He’s back in the circle.” Nano reassured, while Sips shook his head vigorously. Sjin had released Ridge moments after the candle was lit once again, and stopped short when he tried to step out of the circle once again. On seeing this, Ridge’s enraged expression shifted into a smug smirk.

“Yeah, he’s back in the circle, but so’s my friend. How do we let him out without letting them both out?” The silence in response to this was answer enough. “...Let me guess. We can’t?”

“No can do. If you have a ghost buddy in there, they’re both stuck.” Strife finally admitted, frowning a bit. “That sucks, but I think if lives are in danger here we’re going to have to keep going and just cut our losses.”

“Are you saying this thing is going to like, exorcise him too?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never actually tried this before, but it might. I think, given the gravity of the situation, we’re just going to have to hope for the best.”

“Hell no. We’re not continuing this fucking… magic spell bullshit if Sjin’s in there. That isn’t an option.” Sips cut him off, speaking through gritted teeth. He could vaguely understand on a logical level that it was the best course of option, especially to someone like Strife, for whom the presence of the two ghosts came down to the word of the only two members of their party that could actually see them. It probably didn’t seem like a real loss to him. Whatever small part of Sips might have accepted this logic, however, was entirely beaten out by the part of him that surged with anger at the very suggestion.

“Sips.” Upon being addressed, Sips turned his attention from Strife to Sjin, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression. “This asshole needs to go. If that means I have to be collateral damage-”

“No. Shut the fuck up, Sjin. Shut up with that fucking self sacrificing crap. We’ll figure something else out.”

“I don’t think figuring something else out is an option at this stage of the game. People could get hurt, or killed.”

“You have a really good pet here, Sips.” Ridge piped up, clapping Sjin on the back with his good hand and laughing. “Go right ahead and send me to hell. I’ll gladly go if it means I can drag your little boyfriend down with me. That’s way fucking better than the shit I had planned.”

“How about you go fuck yourself?!” Sips spat back in frustration, even as Strife once again began his recitation. “For fuck’s sake, Strife, what part of ‘no’ do you not get? Stop it, right the fuck now.” When this request was simply ignored, he brought the candle he was holding up to his mouth to blow it out, only to be stopped by Sjin’s voice.

“Don’t, Sips. I don’t particularly want this to happen either, but we haven’t got a choice. Needs of the many, and all that.”

“Fuck the needs of the many, this is the time for selfishness, not selflessness!”

“Sips, please.” Sjin pleaded sincerely, and as much as he wanted to, Sips couldn’t just disregard the earnestness on his face. He pulled back from the candle and held it steadily, completely ignoring anything and everything else going on around them in favor of just staring at Sjin, who stared right back. Ridge, who was still clearly tickled pink by the proceedings, laughed even harder than he had been before.

“Awww, what a sweet moment!” He said sarcastically, throwing a broken arm across Sjin’s shoulders. “You going to profess your undying love to him now? Promise to cherish these beautiful feelings you share ‘til the end of your days? Oh, woops, might be a little late for that one.”

If Ridge had been hoping for some kind of an explosive response to this, he was going to be disappointed, because Sjin didn’t react to his words in the slightest. He didn’t move his gaze from Sips’ until a moment later, when Strife finished speaking and a trapdoor appeared in the ground in a flash of light. Both he and Ridge turned to look at it, the latter looking more and more amused by the second.

“A trapdoor? That’s your big plan? Really? What, you expect me to just open it up and hop in?” He questioned, giggling a bit. The giggling stopped immediately as the trapdoor opened, revealing what appeared to be little more than a dark abyss; nothing like the blinding light that these doors usually produced. After a moment, solid looking tendrils of darkness began to emerge, moving like tentacles toward Ridge and wrapping around his ankle before pulling him toward the hole. He kicked in a completely failed attempt at freeing himself, then grabbed at Sjin, who the tendrils seemed to be ignoring, with his good hand, locking his fingers around Sjin’s wrist. All that smugness was nowhere to be found now, as a look of sheer panic crossed the undamaged side of his face.

The more Ridge struggled, the more active the tendrils seemed to get as more of them emerged to wrap around his legs and waist, pulling him more forcefully toward the door in the ground. While Sjin was obviously struggling to free himself from Ridge’s grip, the other ghost was larger, and his struggles seemed to do absolutely nothing as he was pulled along too. While Sips and Nano looked on in silent horror, Ridge lost his footing and went down, pulling his captive down with him as he was dragged along at a quicker pace, the lower half of his body soon disappearing beyond the doorway as he held on to Sjin for dear unlife.

It was right as the darkness pulled Ridge down up to his chest that Nilesy suddenly appeared outside of the circle, looking whole and uninjured once again. That ‘astral projection’ thing he had going only lasted for a second or two before he vanished again, but it was enough.

The confusion was apparent on Ridge’s face. He obviously couldn’t understand why the man that he had violently ‘killed’ looked none the worse for wear. Sjin took the opportunity that this distraction provided and kicked him full on in the face, causing him to let out a loud curse and release his grip. The next moment, it was all over. A shouting Ridge was immediately pulled the rest of the way in, and the trapdoor shut with a loud bang before vanishing completely.

The relief in the air was palpable, and Sips immediately dropped the candle he had been holding and stepped into the circle with Sjin. To do what, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“I’d be hugging the shit out of you if I could right now, you goddamn idiot.” He mumbled after a moment. Sjin just grinned sheepishly and gave a little shrug.

“I’ll see your imaginary hug and raise you one imaginary ‘I’m not quite as horrible a level of dead as I could be right now and that’s awesome’ snogging session.”

This wasn’t even a particularly funny comment, but both of them were laughing hysterically within a matter of seconds.

“I take it that worked?” Strife interrupted, staring at Sips with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, we’re down one complete asshat of a ghost.” He responded when he managed to calm his laughter enough to actually speak. Strife gave a nod.

“Great. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an 8 AM meeting tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep. Parv, I’ll see you in the morning. And clean this crap up, okay? I don’t need to explain to the press why my personal assistant was arrested for defacing a graveyard.”

With that, Strife walked off, and Parv got to work gathering the candles up as he kicked at the grass to smudge the symbols drawn there.

“Well, that was fun.” Lomadia commented, surprisingly sincerely. Fun wasn’t exactly the word that Sips would have used, but he didn’t question it. Everyone got their kicks in their own way, after all. “I’m off, though. I’ve got to check in on my birds and then get back to the hospital.”

“You should really go home and get some sleep, Lom. There’s nothing you can really do at the hospital anyway.” Zoey replied, to which Lomadia responded with a brief shake of her head.

“I just want to make sure someone’s there when he wakes up.” Sips appreciated the extra emphasis that she put on ‘when’, which further stressed the fact that she hadn’t said ‘if’. A little positivity was more than welcome right then.

“You go keep an eye on the Nilesinator, then, and when he wakes up, let him know that I need to talk to him about giving him one hell of a raise and holiday bonus,” Sips requested with a bit of a laugh. Lomadia gave him a small smile, then turned to head off. Before long, everyone left in the little group also went their separate ways.

“I’m really, really fucking glad you’re still here.” Sips murmured after a moment, willing to be a bit more candid about his feelings now that he and Sjin were alone. Sjin laughed softly.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too, you big babby.” He replied softly, and Sips awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck, unsure what exactly to say to that. After a moment, he decided not to say anything at all. He couldn’t exactly deny that this was exactly what he’d meant.

~~~

Now that the problem of Ridge had been dealt with, life calmed down considerably. Sips fell back into the usual routine of working, watching too much tv, and shooting the shit with Sjin, up until about a week after the night in the graveyard, when a text from Lomadia informed him that Nilesy had, in fact, woken up.

Sips made it a point to get to the hospital as quickly as he could, and after a lecture from the doctors that his friend was still incredibly out of it, he was allowed in to see him, Sjin trailing along behind. Once he entered the room, Nilesy took one look in his direction and let out a groan.

“Oh, god no.”

“Oh, hey Nilesy, I’m glad to see you too!”

“It’s not you I’ve got a problem with seeing!” His still incredibly battered looking legal advisor responded, voice a bit slurred, and Sips realized with a start that he was actually looking past him, at Sjin. The realization seemed to hit Sjin at the exact same moment, and he let out a laugh.

“I’m hurt, friend! What’s wrong with being able to see me, huh? If I were you I’d want to look at this handsome face all day!” He commented, still laughing, and moved past Sips to stand beside Nilesy’s bed. “You survived what should’ve been a fatal injury, and you get to look at me now! That’s win win in my book, sir.”

“Go away.” Nilesy sounded absolutely miserable, and Sips couldn’t really say he blamed him. Much as he was happy about having his little ability now, it wasn’t something he ever would have wanted or asked for. He actually felt a little bit bad for him.

Or rather, he _did_ feel bad for him. Right up until the moment that Nilesy reached up as if to push Sjin away, and actually did so. Sjin stared at him, flabbergasted, then gave him an experimental poke, which also worked.

“Holy shit.” He commented, wide eyed, and stared down at an equally flabbergasted looking Nilesy.

Sips flicked his gaze back and forth between them several times. After a moment, he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Now that is just some _complete_ fucking bullshit.”


	14. Chapter Fourteen

“You see? That. I’m talking about that.” Sips was saying, gesturing wildly at the hospital bed that a very worn out looking Nilesy was currently lying in. “How the hell is that happening?”

Nano and Lalna, who had only just arrived after receiving a series of frantic texts from Sips, looked rather confused at the lack of any real greeting. Sips sighed heavily and turned to Sjin, who was once again stood by the side of Nilesy’s bed. “Touch him again!” With a bit of a shrug at Nano, Sjin did he was told, reaching down to grip Nilesy’s shoulder, which caused the still very heavily injured man to flinch away from the touch.

“...Did you really just touch him?” Nano questioned, closing her good eye and squinting a bit at Sjin with the foggy one. “Like, did you seriously just make physical contact?”

“Apparently.” Sjin replied, poking Nilesy once again for emphasis. Nilesy gave a sharp intake of breath as this obviously hurt, and batted his hand away.

“Yeah, he’s touching me, and I can’t say I really like it, so now that we’ve proven that point, please _stop_ touching me.” This last bit was directed at Sjin, who backed away a bit sheepishly to stand beside Sips once again.

“Is it just him that you can touch?” Nano asked after a lengthy, thoughtful pause. Sjin nodded, passing a hand directly through Sips’ torso to demonstrate. While it still caused a wave of cold chills, this kind of thing didn’t really bother Sips anymore, and apart from a bit of a shiver, he didn’t react at all.

“Okay, that’s weird, right? I’m not the only one who thinks that’s weird, am I?”

“No, that’s definitely weird. I’ve never come across anything that might explain someone being able to make physical contact with a spirit. Have you read about anything like this, Lal?”

“I might have a theory.” The tall blond reached up to scratch the back of his head as he stared off into space, a pensive expression on his face. After a moment, though, he turned his attention to Nilesy. “You were dead for a bit, weren’t you? Clinically, I mean.”

“So I’m told.” Nilesy replied, looking a bit confused. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Like I said, it’s just a theory, but… the most common explanation for ‘mediums’ or whatever you care to call them is the idea that a brush with death might give a person a more powerful connection to the ‘spirit world’.” The scientist turned to look at Nano with a frown. After a moment, she sighed and gave a nod of understanding.

“This isn’t really something I care to advertise much, given that I use them to make a living, but my own abilities are fairly weak, truth be told.” She explained, gesturing vaguely at her seemingly blind eye and the burn scars on her face. “This happened when I was about ten years old. A friend and I decided it would be a brilliant idea to explore some old warehouse, I knocked a big jar off a shelf, next thing I know, half my body feels like it’s on fire. Some sort of extremely acidic chemical, apparently. They said I was lucky I didn’t completely lose an eye and only needed skin grafts on a few small areas. That’s when I started seeing spirits, you know? But only in the one eye, and they’re always a bit blurry and translucent.”

“Point is, she could’ve been killed if she’d managed to swallow or inhale the stuff, but all she wound up with was comparatively harmless surface damage,” Lalna interjected. “You, meanwhile, can see these ghosts quite easily, can’t you?” The question was aimed at Sips, who nodded.

“Yeah. It’s like they’re actually there, apart from, ya know, not really being there.” He waved a hand through Sjin for emphasis. Lalna nodded thoughtfully, even though he obviously couldn’t see the demonstration.

“You were a lot worse off than she was, but you were more in danger of being a vegetable than anything. Fairly stable, otherwise. Nilesy, well-” He turned to look at Nilesy and gave an apologetic grin. “No offense, but you have no right to be alive right now. I’m no doctor, but from what I’ve heard of your injuries and my understanding of biology? Yeesh.”

“So… what? You’re saying what we can do might be related to how fucked we were by our own injuries?” Sips questioned after a moment, earning a shrug from Lalna.

“I’d take the theory with a grain of salt, of course, but if it’s true that those who’ve touched death become permanently connected to the afterlife… It might be a bit like; Nano’s met death for tea once or twice, you and death are fairly close… maybe meet up for a drink after work on occasion, play a bit of mini golf... Nilesy and death have sleepovers every weekend and matching friendship tattoos, because friendship bracelets just aren’t a permanent enough symbol of their platonic devotion.” Lalna paused for a few seconds, frowning, before adding, “Well, presumably platonic. I don’t really know what way death swings. Or if death even has a gender.”

“Well it definitely isn’t anything _other_ than platonic, that much I can tell you.” Nilesy interjected, sounding tired and just about as put out by this whole situation as Sips felt. Okay, he maybe still felt a little bit bad for the guy. Even if a large part of him was just incredibly jealous about it.

“So… not something we can recreate then.” He mumbled with a bit of a sigh. Lalna shrugged.

“Not really, no.” The scientist paused for a moment as a bit of a grin crossed his face. “Unless-”

“Whatever you’re going to suggest, Lal, _no_.” Nano interrupted, earning a pout from the much taller man.

“I was only going to say we could possibly recreate the effect by stopping someone’s heart and then using a shot of adrenaline!”

“That’s an even _bigger_ no!”

“...I mean, that sounds like a kind of reasonable idea.” Sips mused after a moment. This resulted in incredulous looks from everyone in the room apart from Lalna, who’s grin had returned full force.

“See! There’s someone with a sense of adventure!”

“Is this something we’re seriously discussing?” Nilesy questioned, attempting to sit up a bit in bed and then almost immediately settling back down with a grimace. “Because that’s _literally_ insane.”

“I’m with him on this one, Sips.” Sjin commented, still staring at Sips as if he’d suddenly grown a second head. “That’s completely mental.”

“Thirding that. Getting your dick wet isn’t worth it, mate.” Nano commented. Sips turned to look at her in surprise. He really hadn’t been expecting to hear something like that come out of her mouth.

“ _Excuse_ me?”

“What? There’s obviously a reason you’re so interested.” She gestured vaguely at Sjin. “I put two and two together. Believe me, I understand wanting to get laid, but there’s easier ways to do that.”

“No, I’m offended by your wording, missy. I’ll have you know, I don’t ‘get my dick wet’, I make love.”

“Ew.” Nano responded, making a bit of a face.

“I’m willing to bet you’re just jealous because _he_ won’t _make love_ to you.” Sjin commented, pointing a finger at Lalna as he spoke. Nano made a bit of a choking noise.

“ _Lalna_? Oh my god, _no_.”

“What about me?” Lalna questioned, frowning slightly. The tiny medium just shook her head vigorously.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“No, what about me?! Why do you look like you’re going to be sick?!”

“Okay! You know what, I think we’ve solved your little mystery, wouldn’t you say, Sips? I’ve got a lot to do today. Terribly busy.”

“You were just complaining this morning about how you had nothing to do today.” Lalna argued, brow furrowing slightly as his obvious confusion increased.

“No, you’re confusing this morning for the other day. Today was always going to be full of plans. There’s so much to do, and such little time to do it! Like that organizing thing. I was going to organize, remember?”

“...No?”

“He’s such a scatterbrain, isn’t he?” Nano asked, directing the question at Sips, who wasn’t even trying to hide his laughter at this exchange. “I can’t imagine how you put up with him working under you.”

“So if I understand this correctly, what you’re saying is you’re only capable of imagining him ‘working’ under _you_?” Sjin questioned innocently. The poor girl looked about fit to burst, and she turned without another word to leave, grabbing Lalna by the wrist as she went.

“Why won’t you explain what’s happening?! I only got half of that conversation!” Lalna’s confused voice faded as they exited the room, and both Sips and Sjin burst into hysterics. Nilesy let out a long suffering sigh from his bed.

“You’re both terrible, you know that, don’t you?” He asked, looking back and forth between them before lying back and staring up at the ceiling. “A match made in fucking hell.”

“Aw, c’mon Nilesy.” Sips responded once he had managed to calm his laughter to a degree. “It was funny. You need to cheer up. You’re not dead, right? And you’ve got that nifty plate in your head.”

“That and a couple of rods in my limbs.” Nilesy paused for a moment, before laughing slightly. “You think that’s enough to make me a cyborg?”

“One thing I’ll say for sure, I don’t think anyone’s gonna try to infringe on any of our copyrights knowing they’d have to face up to the Nilsenator: Bionic Attorney.”

Nilsey laughed again, quite a bit harder this time. If the pained look that crossed his face was any indication, this was something he likely regretted immediately.

“Alright, I think that’s quite enough of you for one day, Chuckles.” Lomadia commented as she entered the room, a styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand. “If you hadn’t noticed, Nilesy’s still got a lot of recovering to do yet.”

“Hey, isn’t laughter supposed to be the best medicine?”

“Not when the patient’s got a load of broken ribs, it isn’t. Clear out.” Not waiting for Sips to argue, she went ahead and shooed him right out of the room, Sjin following along momentarily. She shut the door in both of their faces without bothering with a goodbye to Sips.

“Rude! Everyone’s being so rude today, Sjin.” Sips complained, more for the sake of complaining than because he truly cared about how he was being treated. He was well aware of the fact that, more often than not, he absolutely deserved any and all rude behavior that he might be subjected to. It just sort of came with the territory of being an unrepentant jerk half of the time. After a moment, he let out a sigh and pouted slightly before moving on to his more legitimate complaint. “I can’t believe you could mack on Nilesy if you wanted to.”

Sjin wrinkled his nose in an obvious expression of distaste. “Yeah, not that it benefits me in any way. He’s not worthy of _these_ lips, that much I can tell you.”

“...I still think Lalna’s idea might not have been _that_ crazy of a plan.”

Sjin didn’t bother to acknowledge this verbally. The completely unamused expression on his face said enough, really.

It was right about then that Sips’ phone went off, revealing a text from an unknown number.

- _Word on the web is that you’re the guy to go to for help with hauntings. I’ve got a ghost that I need rid of. How can I go about hiring you?_

Sips stared at the text, frowning at the implications of it. Most importantly that this random stranger had somehow gotten ahold of his private number. Sjin moved to look over his shoulder at it as well, snorting slightly after a moment.

“I’m willing to bet someone released your contact info to the masses. I dunno who’d be that big of a dick, though. Most of the people who know you well enough to have that info to blabber don’t seem quite the type.”

Sips still didn’t speak for some time as he weighed the possible guilty parties in his head. Finally, he let out a sigh.

“Oh, I know one who might be the type… plus he’s got the motivation to want to fuck things up for me.” Grumbling to himself under his breath, he moved to send a new text, ignoring the notification that he had received another in the meantime- from the preview, a text with similar content to the first.

- _parvis, you tell that shitbag boss of yours I’m coming in to see him today. consider this me officially making an appointment. if he’s busy, he’s clearing his schedule. got that?_

~~~

Confident as he might have been in the text, Sips’ plan to just burst in to talk to Strife hadn’t exactly gone as planned. On arriving at Strife Solutions, he was at first ignored by the secretary, who eventually shuffled him into a waiting room, where he sat tapping his foot impatiently.

This time, he didn’t even have Sjin around to help keep him entertained while he waited. His ghostly friend had stuck around for a little while before taking it upon himself to check out the building under the guise of looking to see where Strife was and what he was up to. Sips had a feeling he’d really just driven him away by being such a lousy conversationalist at that moment. He didn’t have much to say beyond complaining about the steady influx of texts that were still consistently blowing up his phone.

It was a good half an hour before Sips was truly acknowledged by anyone with even the slightest pull in the company, and it was the last person he wanted it to be. He was in the middle of reading a lengthy text detailing some bullshit about a haunted doll when he felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up to see Parv standing over him, grinning broadly.

“Hello! Got your text, Strife’s sent me to keep you busy. I’ve put a kettle on in the breakroom!”

Sips narrowed his eyes up at him, but got to his feet, having a glance around for Sjin, who was still nowhere to be found.

“I don’t want tea. I want to talk to your fucking boss.”

“Well, he’s busy wizzy at the moment, so tea it is! Just follow old Parvy!” Parv did about the last thing Sips expected and reached up to boop him on the nose before turning to lead the way down the hall. Sips begrudgingly followed, with the two of them eventually entering the aforementioned breakroom. It was nice enough, certainly less plain than the break rooms at Sipsco, although the decorations were more than a bit eclectic.

“What’s with all the fancy wall art? You trying to make this some modern art exhibit?” He questioned, waving vaguely at a wall, on which there were a multitude of strange pieces. Signs, slips of paper, even a framed piece of wood.

“Oh, that? Bit of a game me and Strifey play. Every time he’s bought out a company it’s my job to find a souvenir of the place. Kind of a Strife Solutions Hall of Acquisitions. Do you like it?!”

Sips frowned as he took a closer look to see that these were, indeed, all seemingly taken from a variety of companies. The signs were for shops, a few of the papers were letterheads or pages from employee handbooks.

“Nope. You guys are kinda dicks.”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s necessary, isn’t it?”

“Even if it were necessary for your boss to literally want to head every industry in the city, how is it necessary to display it like some kind of fucked up business hunting lodge?” As he spoke, Sips’ eyes fell on a large frame on one wall, containing something much closer to traditional artwork, namely a nice looking blueprint. Something about it really caught his attention, and he moved closer, wanting to see it in more detail, when he was interrupted by the break room door opening as Strife stepped inside. Sips tore his attention away from the frame in front of him in order to cast a glare at his fellow CEO, who gave him a mild smile in response.

“What exactly seems to be the problem, Sips? Parvis tells me you aren’t happy with me.”

“No shit I’m not happy with you, and you know exactly why. Who gave you permission to plaster my contact info online? I’m _not_ some fucking ghost hunter!”

At this, Strife let out a laugh. “Oh, that? I forgot about that. Those classifieds have been up since that night in the graveyard, I guess it took a while for people to see them. You didn’t think I was just going to let you get away with losing me Honeydew Inc, did you?”

“This is bullshit. Probably defamation or something; making me look like a kook, I’m pretty sure I could sue you for this shit.”

Strife shrugged. “Go ahead. It’s worth it. Besides, isn’t your lawyer a little under the weather right now? Are you really going to bother him about something as trivial as this?”

“I have other lawyers.”

“Really? That you trust to get anything done? Because I’ve never dealt with a single Sipsco lawyer outside of Nilesy.”

“Okay, whatever, maybe I won’t sue, but this is still bullshit, and absolutely fucking undeserved. Xephos is the one that decided not to sell to you, I just helped him make the decision. I’ve had sixteen texts and thirty e-mails since this morning!”

“Woah, really?” Strife questioned, eyes widening a bit. “I’ll admit, I never anticipated that big of a response. You have my apologies.”

“Apologies my ass! Sorry isn’t good enough here, Strife. You’d better think of some way to-” As Sips vented his frustrations, his gaze wandered the room again, eventually settling back on the blueprint he had been heading for. Now that he was closer, he could see that they appeared to be for some sort of house, and more importantly, he could see the signature of the person who had designed it. He cut himself off immediately, heart hammering away in his chest, and turned back to Strife. “Where the fuck did you get this?”

Strife squinted past him for a moment and shrugged. Before Sips could tear into him again in frustration, Parv piped up from his place sat at one of the tables, sipping a cup of tea.

“That was from that architecture firm we got a few years back, Strifeykins. Disco and Co or something like that? I found it in their archives. Thought it was really neat. Saved a few others like it as well.”

Strife rolled his eyes, most likely at the nickname, Sips figured. “There you have it. What does that blueprint have to do with anything?”

For a time, Sips didn’t answer. He stared at the designs, suffering from just a tiny bit of internal turmoil. A small part of him that he didn’t really want to acknowledge existed wanted nothing more than to pretend he hadn’t stumbled across these blueprints at all. It would be perfectly easy to ignore it, move on with the conversation, and never look back. He even found himself considering it for a bit longer than he would have cared to admit. In the end, though, he couldn’t bring himself to try and forget about it. He turned his attention back to Strife, swallowing hard before speaking.

“That’s none of your business, but if I can have that and any of the other ones your dumb assistant mentioned, I think we can call this whole situation even.”

If Strife was confused at all by this, he didn’t show it. “Parv, go find the others and have them all sent to Sipsco for me, will you?”

Parv did as he was told, downing the rest of his tea and jumping to his feet before speeding out of the room. Strife watched him go, then turned back to Sips.

“This is a gentleman’s agreement then, right? I don’t want to have to deal with some nasty lawsuit and if you’re sure about that deal, I’ll trust you on it.”

Sips’ attention had already returned to the blueprint, and he nodded despite only really half listening to what was being said to him.

He had always been a little bit skeptical about the idea of fate or destiny, but the coincidence of just so happening to stumble onto the plans for Sjin’s farmhouse was an obvious enough sign to make a bit more of a believer out of him.

~~~

The next few months had passed in something of a blur. Things quieted down once Sips got himself a new number and replaced his personal e-mail address, although his conscience wouldn’t let him ignore these people who were trying to contact him entirely. His old number and e-mail were given to Zoey, who he put in charge of weeding out the bullshit in favor of finding those requests that actually seemed legitimate.

He wasn’t really sure when he’d come to consider dealing with ghosts a duty of his, but he found that he didn’t really mind the occasional ghost busting adventure, almost always tailed by Sjin. Not all of them panned out (Zoey really was too kindhearted to turn desperate people down, even if their problem was obviously something like rusty pipes), but quite a few did, and he had to admit, it felt kind of good. Besides, it helped keep his mind off of the thing he had been working on at the office rather than doing his real work; a task that he still had incredibly mixed feelings about.

Eventually, the day came that this secret project of his was finished, and he once again found himself contemplating just ignoring the months of work and pretending that he hadn’t done it at all. It was actually done for over a week before he could bring himself to mention to Sjin over his morning breakfast that he had a surprise for him. Although initially pleased by the announcement, Sjin seemed a bit nervous in the car ride, a fact that probably wasn’t helped by Sips’ obvious preoccupation. He supposed most people would have seemed a bit more excited about giving someone a _good_ surprise.

The drive lasted only a few minutes before they arrived at the surprise; namely the farmhouse that now stood on the once empty lot Sips had acquired all that time ago, a bit weirdly placed to account for the large tree that still sat untouched in the center of the land.

Sips got out of the car, followed closely by Sjin, who’d had his eyes closed at Sips’ request for the last leg of the journey. Another moment of hesitation followed, before Sips finally mustered the courage to clear his throat and speak.

“You can, uh… Open your eyes now.” He requested, trying to sound more enthusiastic about this than he was really feeling. Sjin did as he asked and opened his eyes, staring at the building before them in confusion for a moment before the realization began to dawn on his face. His expression was very difficult to read, and Sips shuffled his feet awkwardly, waiting for him to say something. When a full minute passed and Sjin still hadn’t spoken, he cleared his throat again.

“So, yeah… surprise. I guess we should have the grand tour, huh?” Sjin still didn’t answer, but he followed when  Sips led the way up the porch steps and opened the front door to head inside. “I should probably mention I didn’t like, grab a hammer and build the place myself, ya know? Strife’s had the plans for ages, and he gave them to me. And you remember Smith’s buddies? Turns out they work in real estate. I stumbled across them in the phone book. It was kinda awkward talking to them again but they knew a lot of people in the business and they put me in touch with some really ‘legit builders’. I kinda thought they might be full of shit, but it seems like a decent enough job to me.” He paused in his admittedly nerve fueled rambling to knock on the wall of the hallway as he led the way around through the various rooms.

Sjin’s lack of any interjections was starting to get to him, and the slightly sick feeling he’d had since he had brought up the surprise only got worse when he noticed that his ghost buddy seemed to have tears in his eyes. Rather than concentrating on the emotions he might have been feeling himself, Sips opted to just continue rambling. “Martyn was fine with using the lot as long as the tree was left alone, and he was even happy about it once I promised I’d have some more planted too. Nilesy helped me convince Lomadia to move to a new facility I donated. I figured the barn you’d planned to use is probably long gone by now, but you said the one she was using reminded you of it, so I thought it would be the next best thing to get the materials there.”

By the time he had finished running his mouth about the entire process, Sips had led Sjin on a full go around of the house, and they now stood in a slightly awkward silence in the entrance hall. He crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at the floor in an effort to avoid looking at Sjin. “You didn’t deserve to die without getting to see this. I know it isn’t the same, but I had to do what I could to get as close to helping you see your building baby as possible, you know?”

The silence stretched on for some time, before Sjin finally spoke.

“… I can’t even begin to-” Sips finally looked up to meet his eyes as he spoke, regretting it instantly as the still visible tears in Sjin’s eyes made his throat tight. Whatever Sjin had planned to say beyond this was cut off, as there was a flash of light, and both of them broke eye contact to look at the door that had appeared to one side of the entrance hall.

Sips had theorized plenty of times that this would be the thing to do finally cause that door to appear. He had been well aware of the likelihood of this throughout the time he had spent making his secret plans, and it had largely been his reason for procrastinating, or considering giving up. For the most part, though, he had tried to convince himself that he would be ready for it. He found now that he most definitely was not. A glance at Sjin showed him that Sjin was looking at him now, rather than the door, his brow furrowed.

“Sips... I…”

Sips didn’t wait around to hear whatever it was that Sjin might have been planning to say. Instead he just gave an awkward goodbye wave and turned on his heel, beelining for the front door and shutting it behind him once he got to the porch. He wanted to just get in his car and leave then and there, but he was suddenly feeling too shaky to trust his legs, so he instead let himself flop down onto his rear the moment he reached the porch steps and immediately covered his face with his hands, breathing hard. He’d made the executive decision not to cry, and dammit if he was going to go back on his word to himself.

It was several minutes before he managed to calm himself down enough to lower his hands, and it was only then that he noticed that the air around him had taken on something of a chill. Suddenly, that familiar cold feeling of pins and needles radiated through his arm and torso from his shoulder, and he turned hesitantly to see that Sjin had settled onto the porch step beside him. The ghost removed his hand from where he had placed it ‘on’ Sips’ shoulder when the latter turned to look at him, and he smiled slightly.

“Sorry. Hope I didn’t startle you.”

Sips said nothing for a good while, just staring at him and willing himself to keep it together. When he finally spoke, it was in a very careful monotone.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s my house, isn’t it? You did imply you’d built it for me.”

“I _mean_ , aren’t you supposed to have… moved on, or whatever?”

Sjin looked decidedly unsure of himself, and turned his gaze toward Martyn’s tree, running a hand awkwardly through his hair.

“I dunno. I mean… door doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. I figured… I figured maybe I’ll stick around for just a little while longer.”

The twisty feeling in Sips’ stomach was finally starting to lessen, although he wasn’t willing to let himself feel entirely hopeful just yet.

“...Yeah? How long’s a while?”

Sjin turned to look at him again, a timid smile starting to form on his lips. “How old are you again?”

“...I’m thirty two.”

“Oh… say, three, four decades then?” Sjin chuckled softly, shaking his head a bit, and continuing to stare at Sips, his smile growing. “Less if you don’t start eating better or stop drinking so much fucking Mountain Dew.”

“Oh fuck you, my diet’s fine, and Mountain Dew is delicious! We all have our vices!” Sips retorted, laughing a bit hysterically. The relief flooding through him was having an almost intoxicating effect on him.

“You eat like a first year university student! Mr. High-Sodium-Intake, that’s what your name should actually be, you bloody idiot!” Sjin’s smile had split into a full on grin, and Sips laughed even harder at this, not even noticing that he had failed in his promise to himself until the tears were already streaming down his face.

“...Are you _crying_?”

“No! I’m absolutely fucking not crying!”

“Oh you are, you absolutely fucking are! Look at you, you crybaby!”

“Fuck off, Sjin.”

“Little babby softie!”

“I would hit you if I could.”

“Nah, you’d just kiss me and you know it.”

“No, I would have kissed you earlier, now I would punch you.”

“The sissy crybaby thinks he could throw a decent punch, eh?”

“You’d have a black eye for at least a fucking week!”

Despite the teasing and the little threat display, both men were still positively beaming. As such, the text tone going off on Sips’ phone was _incredibly_ unwanted. He checked it nonetheless and let out a bit of a sigh.

“That’d be Zoey.” He mumbled, turning back to Sjin. “Says she got another email, and this one sounds serious. Probably nothing, knowing Zoey, but might as well check it out. You coming?”

“Of course I am, you stupid fuck.”

Sips snorted and got to his feet, heading for the car and their next little ghost hunting expedition, Sjin following along behind him, as always.

Right back to business as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. There you have it. This shit’s been plaguing me for months, and it is finally done. A huge weight off my shoulders. Now I can finally be rid of this universe forever!
> 
> ...Or not. I may possibly have decided quite a while back that there was more of this universe I wanted to share, but I didn’t want to make that known until now because admitting there was more to it might have spoiled the ending just a bit. So consider this an official announcement that I will be writing a sequel. 
> 
> It’s going to be a bit of a change of pace from this one, the biggies being that I’d like to make it somewhat more episodic, with the individual stories being more self contained and I want to tell it from some different perspectives rather than primarily limiting it to Sips. This is mostly because it’s going to be a bit more of an ensemble cast type of thing rather than just the two mains and the cast of secondary characters that this one had. 
> 
> I hope anyone that enjoyed this fic will give the sequel a go, even if Sips and Sjin will be sharing the spotlight a lot more with some of the other bozos of this universe that they’ve met. 
> 
> That said, I don’t know when I’m going to start it, but it shouldn’t be too long from now. So I’ll hopefully be seeing you all there!
> 
> Regardless of if you decide to read the sequel or not, thank you so friggin’ much to anyone who read, left kudos, commented, etc. This beast could get a little exhausting sometimes, and knowing people enjoyed this story is definitely what kept me writing it.
> 
> Also; in the meantime, if any of ya'll feel like shootin' the breeze, I have skype and I like people! Ya'll can add me if you want, mine is poprocksandcoke86. Just tell me where you found me and I will surely add ya back.


End file.
